


Excursion to Dathyel

by 20SomethingSuperHeroes



Series: Memoirs of a Jedi Apprentice [3]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Dancing, Gen, Jedi, Politics, Pre-Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, Teen Angst, Teenagers, Unrequited Crush, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-30 00:08:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6399730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20SomethingSuperHeroes/pseuds/20SomethingSuperHeroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jedi Council has assigned Obi-wan Kenobi and Phish Nish to oversee a peace conference between two feuding tribes on a distant planet.  Ereh Saw Yzil isn't looking forward to the trip--not with Anakin Skywalker in the mix, anyway. </p><p>Setting: 25 BBY</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I had hoped after the Garel incident that I wouldn’t have any more interaction with Anakin Skywalker. But that was a lot to hope for. The Jedi Council made assignments to members of the Order without regard for how well their padawans got along. And when I was twelve, my master and Master Kenobi were called on to intervene in a territorial dispute on the planet Dathyel in the Mid-rim. There was no question that they would bring their apprentices with them.

I should begin with a few words of explanation about Dathyel. Dathyel is not a planet that you will ever see featured in the films, books, or other material so prolific on this distant world about my home galaxy. Whoever was responsible for learning the story of our galaxy maybe thought it too homely and boring, or perhaps never heard of it at all. But, it’s a big galaxy with lots of habitable worlds--even people who know their way around can get lost there.  
In the north of Dathyel lived two peoples who didn’t particularly get along, the Synri and the Kodeel. This story is particularly about the Synri, but I will mention a few words about the Kodeel, since they brought on the trouble. The two most prolific animals in the north were the guuts and the potans. The guuts were ugly, lumpy quadrupeds used for riding, but with the introduction of speeders guuts were kept on hand for emergencies, occasional ceremonies, and pulling carts for the poor. The potans, however, were valued for the thick hair that covered all of their bodies but their heads, as well as their hides, horns, meat, and milk. 

The Kodeel were nomadic pastoralists who herded the native guuts and potans in the alpine meadows and plains of northern Dathyel. You could always tell a Kodeel breed (according to the locals) because it was leaner and hardier than a Synri animal. The meat of a Kodeel potan was much stringier and had a lot less fat. The Kodeel prided themselves on their prowess as warriors and raiders. In the warmer summers they had primitive dwellings of skin tents in which to follow their herds, but in winter they retreated to caves in the mountains. Their other technology being primitive as it got, they used speeders and blasters just as well as the rest of us. The Kodeel had a reputation in other parts of the galaxy as mercenaries and bounty hunters, though they were not very numerous or respected. Their clothes and tattoos favored designs of spirals and circles.

The Synri, on the other hand, were sedentary pastoralists. They lived in villages on the plains between the mountains and the northern forests, but in the summers sent their herds of potans and guuts to the arid plateaus just to the southwest, where the grasses were richer. They lived in houses of wood and stone, usually in extended families, and in their year-round villages the houses had attached workshops for trades both traditional and technological. Though machines did most of the weaving of potan hair and they imported Dathyelan linen from the south, when it came to decorative weaving their women were skillful and their designs intricate, mostly of the geometric or floral variety. They were known collectively as the “good folk of the North” for their belief in being hospitable to strangers and generous in giving gifts. However, this generosity mostly extended to their own people: to Kodeel, Dathyelans, or people from other systems, they were downright rude. The Synri craftsmen and weavers were as boastful of their skills as the Kodeel were of their weapons and war conquests. The notion that products and people from any other world could compete was offensive to them. While they accepted technology, they resented droids and non-humans. 

If there was one thing the Synri and the Kodeel had in common, it was an intense hatred of Jedi. The Kodeel were always fighting the Dathyelans or the Synri for one reason or another, and when the conflicts got really intense it was the Jedi who were sent in to restore order, as my master and I were on that occasion with Skywalker and Kenobi. The Kodeel viewed Jedi as a threat to their independence and violent traditions. The Synri, however, were a superstitious lot. Their ancient history and lore was peppered with stories of powerful witches and spiteful sorcerers who kidnapped children and tricked innocent townspeople. The Force was simply a different incarnation of those ancient evils and they hated anyone who could use it. And in the history of the Republic’s presence of Dathyel, sometimes the Synri were on the short end of whatever bargains were struck by the Jedi between them, their Dathyelan rulers, or their Kodeel enemies. “I’d sooner trust a Jedi,” was a popular saying from the old days. Because no Synri in their right mind ever would.

As I mentioned previously, both the Synri and the Kodeel kept vast herds of livestock in the same regions, and over the generations there had been many feuds over who had the right to graze their animals where. For one thing, the Synri were always touchy about Kodeel coming onto the lands outside of their villages, and the Kodeel felt like they had the right to go wherever they darn well pleased. More often than not, the Synri would send an ambassador to the Dathyelan capital of Purida City and beg the king or queen or whoever was ruling at the time to send an armed force to repress the “Kodeel uprising.” When an armed force or a quibbling diplomat wasn’t enough to resolve the issue, someone from outside the planet would come to make a statement.

On this particular occasion, however, the king of Dathyel wasn’t listening. It later turned out that King Dowan wasn’t at all interested in having a Republic presence on his homeworld. One of his well-meaning lower ministers, Jaith Karen, sent an embassy to the Galactic Senate to ask for intervention. The solution, as it was to everything in those days, was to send the Jedi.


	2. Chapter 2

Skywalker and Kenobi were at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant at the time and responded to the summons. The Jedi Council sent a transmission to Master Phish Nish and myself who were at the time on Uldura. We met up with the other two there and took a transport to Dathyel.

Nish and Kenobi were glad to see each other we met on Uldura. Anakin and I, however, regarded each other coldly. Skywalker was eighteen now and taller than his master. I was twelve and I had grown a few inches since Garel..

When our masters had gone aboard, Skywalker grinned down at me and said, “Well, well, Ereh Saw Yzil. It would seem you’ve grown up a bit since I last saw you.”

“Obviously,” I muttered darkly. We got on board without a further word to each other.

Instead of going directly to the capital, since the ill will of the king was implied, we went to the spaceport nearest the northern region, a thriving town called Zokiel. Most of the inhabitants of the place were Dathyelans, traders and hunters and others who had come to the north to make a living. The native Synri were the minority, living in small neighborhoods on the edge. 

Jaith Kairin met us in Zokiel. If he lacked anything as a diplomat, it boiled down to one word: tact. His outlandish robes of the southern nobility, complete with puffy pantaloons and a feather in his hat, stood out garishly among the more subdued clothing of the north.

When we exited our spaceship in the hanger, Kairin took of his hat and bowed to us dramatically. “Master Jedi,” he said, addressing Obi-wan and Phish, “I trust your journey to Dathyel was pleasant?”

“It was indeed, thank you, Lord Kairin,” said Master Nish. He and Obi-wan bowed modestly in greeting with their arms folded in their sleeves. Anakin and I did the same.

“And may I ask which two masters of the Jedi Order did the Senate have the courtesy to send?” he asked, rubbing a monocle on his sleeve and placing it on his eye.

“Master Obi-wan Kenobi, at your service.”

“Master Phish Nish, at your service.”

“Excellent. Master Nish, I do believe I have heard of you. You were the one who settled the mining dispute on Iego some years ago, wasn’t it?”

“I had some help on that, yes.”

“But, that’s not to say, of course, that Master Obi-wan’s reputation has not preceeded him, either, eh? You took on the Trade Federation single-handedly?”

“Oh, no, that wasn’t me,” said Obi-wan, his face breaking into an embarrassed smile. “That was eight years ago. Are people still talking about that?”

“Indeed they are. And are these your apprentices?” he said, looking at Skywalker and me.

“Yes. The tall one is mine,” said Obi-wan. 

“How do you do?” said Kairin. Anakin scowled: the man’s stumptuous manners irritated him.

“And the other one is mine. Be polite and say hello, Yzil,” said Master Nish.

“Hello,” I said quietly, even giving a little smile at the ridiculous man.

“There, I guess Anakin’s bad manners didn’t rub off on her during our trip,” said Obi-wan.

Master Nish laughed. Now Anakin was glaring at me. I put my head down a little. 

“Really, Master Nish, I hadn’t heard you had taken one on. How long ago was this?”

“Only four years ago.”

“Didn’t get much of a break from your last apprentice, did you?” Kairin asked as he walked us down a street. 

“I try not to wait very long between padawans, actually.”

“Rather. How long has it been since your last visit? Five years? Six years?”

“Seven years,” said Phish.

“Aha. Well, it’s a pity you don’t come more often.”

I snorted but then disguised it poorly with a cough. Master Nish hated Dathyel and had tried to get out of coming if he possibly could. 

“And you two,” said Kairin, “Yzil and Anakin, is it? How did you two enjoy the trip?”

Master Obi-wan answered for us: “As much as two apprentices who don’t get along could have.” 

Kairin laughed. “Well, I hope that you will enjoy your visit here, and that by the time you leave that we all will be great friends.” 

As if. Anakin and I looked at each other behind our masters’ backs and resolved that we would hate--excuse me, loathe--one another just as much when we got off this planet as we did when we set foot on it.

Kairin launched into a long commentary about the current situation on Dathyel. Obi-wan was interested to learn of the customs of the different peoples, but not so much from his talkative host. 

We went to dine in a private room of an inn with a group of local political and civic leaders. It was a rather raucous affair, with most of the guests speaking out of turn to argue and Kairin trying to get them to settle down to listen to his speech glossing the ‘rather gloomy prospects’ of the upcoming peace conference, as he styled it. Someone asked Master Obi-wan about the current situation of the Galactic Senate. He made a few remarks and stopped to finish his food. That was when I tried to chip in my two cents about how I disliked a certain senator. Then Master Nish cut me off. 

“Yzil, you do not speak unless spoken to. That is the rule. Forgive my padawan,” he said to the delegate. “She is young and still has much to learn about the ways of the Jedi--including manners.”

I hated it when Master Nish reprimanded me like that in front of everyone.

That night, we slept in very sparingly furnished quarters Kairin had rented in the upstairs of the hotel. But that would be the only night we would spend in the town. For, said Jaith Kairin, we needed to experience the native hospitality of the Synri. He never consulted us as to whether we wanted to, or if the Synri, whoever these folk were, would be willing.

We rode in a landspeeder the next morning out to the Synri village of Namrah, a long ride through the mountains and across a broad prairie away from the spaceport. While we were on our way, Jaith Kairin filled us in on the latest crisis between the Synri and Kodeel.

“Two years ago, the Kodeel herdsmen came out of the northern mountains as usual to take their herds to the summer feeding grounds. The Kodeel and the Synri herds spend the summers on the Gurimgam Plateau, that rough country you can see just to the west of us,” he said, pointing to some broken-up looking lands. “On the Gurimgam Plateau flows the river Psiod, and where the Psiod flows a boundary was drawn by treaty that the Synri herds would feed on the south side, and the Kodeel on the north. But like I said, two years ago, the Kodeel brought some of their herds over to the south side. They said their part of the plateau was overgrazed. By all accounts--Yes, Master Kenobi?”

“When was this treaty created?” asked Obi-wan.

“Well, the treaty was drawn up about ten years ago, after the last feud.”

“I see.”

“But never mind that now. Anyway, the north side of the Psiod was said to be overgrazed, when really it was just the country closest to the river, not enough water for their animals in the open country, mind you, but the Kodeel brought their animals over to the south side. The Synri resorted to physical violence to try to get them off, attacking the herdsmen and killing and maiming the animals. The Kodeel became angry with the Synri, because unlike the Synri they’re nomadic. They don’t have nice vegetable gardens to fall back on when the meat’s scarce. Their women and children were starving, they said, and so they attacked the Synri villages to get what they felt the Synri owed them for killing their herds. The Synri felt like they needed to fight back. They had skirmishes off and on all last summer and currently have a truce. The long and short of it is, we need to convince the Kodeel to go back to their side of the river and for both sides to lay down their arms. Do we all understand?”

“I have a question,” said Master Nish. “Suppose the treaty lines could be redrawn to give the Kodeel access to better grazing territory?”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to work,” said Kairin. “These people have hated each other for generations. No matter what we do for them they’ll just keep fighting.”

Master Nish gave me a look, and by that look I understood that Kairin was making up excuses. The real story was, that the regional treaties could not be rewritten or changed without royal approval, but Kairin was acting without the consent of his king. He was in hot water already for just inviting us to come, but the people of Dathyel--other than the Synri and the Kodeel--were tired of the people of the north killing each other and making things a mess for everyone else. 

 

The village of Namrah wasn’t the biggest or most important of the Synri villages, but it was closest to where the Psiod river met the Kandeth and an important juncture for paths of wandering Synri and Kodeel herds. It was located in the middle of a broad valley about two kilometers from the river and five from the converging streams. The entire landscape was low, rolling hills covered with brown grass, and brown mountains were visible in the distance on all sides. Our speeder went along the Kadeth river to the junction, then north along the Psiod to turn off at Namrah. We saw herds of potans and guuts grazing as we passed, accompanied by their herdsmen, some of whom rode guuts or speeder bikes. 

The village itself was about fifty dwellings total, with a broad, dusty path that ran into a central square. The houses followed a pattern of having a single large section that served as a kitchen and living area facing the street and in back a row of bedrooms. The living area had a chimney attached on the left side. On the left side of the houses also were workshops where the Synri craftsmen plied their trades and people came to buy and sell. On the right were kitchen gardens that grew an abundance of native vegetables. In the central square, there was a large well in the center, and a large building that served as an assembly hall for the entire village. 

It was early afternoon when we arrived. There were a few people out and about in the dirt streets of the village but most people were at home. All of the other speeders we saw there were parked in front of their owners’ houses. A few curious heads poked out of the windows or looked up from what they were doing when we cruised past, but most promptly looked away when we looked back. I got the feeling rather quickly that I wasn’t going to like this place, and I felt a similar sentiment from my companions. Except for Kairin. Optimism wasn’t a good word for his attitude: try naive. 

We pulled up in front of a house near the far side of the village. This house was no different from the others, except for a carved pole that was sitting in the front by the road. The pole was decorated with the carved faces of many strange and curious beasts. For you Earthlings’ reference, it was similar to a Native American totem pole, except narrower and not so gaudily painted. The pole, Kairin explained, marked the chief’s house.

Jaith Kairin disembarked, and our driver came after him with his baggage. Master Obi-wan offered to help the poor chauffeur carry the ambassador’s things, but Kairin wouldn’t have any of it. So we followed after the representative and the driver with our arms folded inside of our robes. Master Nish took the lead, and I came after him. Obi-wan followed myself, and Anakin Skywalker was the tail end of the group.

The front door of the house was at the very front of the living area and faced the street. Jaith Kairin walked right up and knocked on the door. 

A middle-aged man with a long beard and busy, bent gray eyebrows answered the door.

“Chief Kandall, I presume?” said Kairin.

“Yes, that is me.”

“I am Lord Jaith Kairin of His Majesty’s Internal Affairs Council. I trust you received my messenger the other day.”

“Yes, we have been expecting your arrival,” said Kandall. “Do come in.”

“Thank you,” said Kairin. He stepped aside for his driver to carry in his bags. Kairin and we Jedi followed him. The living area was furnished with wooden, backless benches covered with cushions and woven rugs, and there were also draperies on the floor and walls on the right side of the room. On the left side was a large table and chairs and a food preparation area adjoining the fireplace. They had an electric ice box, but that was the most advanced technology featured in the kitchen--the entire house, even.

“Allow me to present my friends from the Jedi Order who have come to participate in our peace councils,” said Kairin, gesturing at us for the chieftain. “Master Phish Nish and Master Obi-wan Kenobi, and their Padawan learners Ereh Saw Yzil and Anakin Skywalker. My friends, this is Kandall Sansadari, chief of the village of Namrah.”

“How do you do?” said Kandall. He bowed slightly with his right arm over his chest and his left behind his back. We gave him our traditional bows with our arms in our sleeves. “I would say your presence is an honor. It is rare that we have such distinguished visitors in our village from the capital, much less the Galactic Senate.”

A woman entered the room about Kandall’s age. She wore an embroidered kerchief on her head, and a dress covered with a long overdress laced up the center. 

“Kandall, are these the visitors?”

“Yes, my dear, they have only just arrived. Allow me to present my wife, Dasiree,” he said to us. She curtsied, and we bowed to her. “Dasiree, if you would please show the good representative’s servant to his room. I think he would like to deposit his burden.”

“I’m not his servant, sir,” said the driver. “He volunteered me for this.” 

“I crave your pardon, then,” said Kandall. Dasiree excused herself and she and the driver left. “Have a seat, my friends.” We were seated on the benches, while the chief drew up chairs from the table for himself and Kairin. “I am glad you were willing to make the trip here. It is good, I think, that the Galactic Senate and the Jedi Council take an interest in our petty affairs. But I must warn you, my people are not pleased that we have agreed to negotiations with the Kodeel. They would much rather continue fighting than allow you to come and tell them what compromises to make.”

“Compromise is usually never the easiest course,” said my master. 

“Before the Dathyel became lords over us, and the Republic over them,” said Kandall, “we Synri made our own decisions as to how to deal with the Kodeel, and without the need for input from outsiders. It would be bad enough had you only included us in these talks. The Kodeel will be here tomorrow, and have their encampment within sight of our village. I do not care for whatever restrictions on our conduct or customs you force us to abide by during these negotiations. You cannot hope to enforce them any more than you can hope to enforce whatever agreement you can come up with. So while you are here, do not meddle with my people. Let me and the other village leaders speak to them on behalf of our council.”

“Chief Kandall, rest assured,” said Kairin, “whatever restrictions we need to apply during the negotiations will be made with the best interests of your people at heart.” The chauffeur came out of the hall to tell him he was going back to the spaceport, and Kairin dismissed him. 

“But what benefits the Synri will not always please the Kodeel,” said Kandall gravely.

“Chief Kandall, we only ask that you trust us,” said Obi-wan. “We mean you and your people no harm. It is most often the case, however, that we treat all parties within a dispute equally.”

“I understand your considerations, Master Jedi,” said Kandall. “But I only ask that you be realistic in this affair. The consequences of this conference may not result in peace. They might only exacerbate the current problems.”

“The passions and tempers of men are indeed powerful,” said Master Nish, “but the power of the Force is stronger still. We will do our utmost to help your people.”

“The Force may be able to help my people, but I doubt my people would accept it. You forget that the Synri do not look to the Jedi as do others in the Galaxy.”  
Dasiree returned to the main room. “Would any of you care for refreshment? It is time for our afternoon meal.”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Kairin, jumping up. Watching the chief try to dissuade the Jedi from their participation had been draining on him. 

“Sounds good to me,” said Obi-wan. “You hungry, Anakin?”

“Oh, I’m starved!” said Anakin eagerly.

“What’s on the menu, ma’am?” Master Nish asked.

“Bread and potan butter. Vegetable and cream soup. And milk to drink. Have any of you been to our planet before?” 

“I have,” said Master Nish. “I was helping with the planetary census nearly a decade ago. The Synri--well, with all due respect, ma’am, your people objected to being counted.” He recounted the story as Dasiree set the table and the food and we gathered around. The food was delicious.

A girl came into the room. She was tall and somewhat fat, and she had the same busy, bent eyebrows as the chief, but her hair was dark brown and covered with a white scarf.

“Mother, are you serving dinner now?” she asked.

“I am serving our guests first, Jerica,” said Dasiree. “If you would like to help me serve them, that would be appreciated.”

“Yes, mother.” 

“I believe Master Obi-wan wants more soup. Could you serve some for him?”

Obi-wan held out his bowl. Without a word, Jerica took his bowl to the soup pot sitting on the stove and refilled it. She seemed upset by our presence: she suspected that we were Jedi but didn’t want to ask in case we weren’t. I would have thought it was obvious. 

When she returned Obi-wan’s bowl, she slammed it hard on the table, I’m pretty sure on accident, and some of it flopped out and landed on Anakin’s robe.

Anakin looked up at her. “I just had that washed before we left Coruscant! Be more careful next time, will you?” he snapped at her.

Before Obi-wan or Phish Nish could rebuke him, Jerica retaliated. “You would do well not to offend your host with your rude remarks. And it wouldn’t be there if you’d been kind enough to remove your robes before sitting at our table!”

“Jerica, you will have to excuse our guests,” said Dasiree. “They do not know our customs.”

“Look, I don’t need your people telling me what to do,” said Anakin. “Would you--”

“I don’t need you making a mock of our customs, you barbarous outsider! And mother, I will not tolerate the ingratitude of a Jedi!”

Anakin reached for his lightsaber but Obi-wan grabbed his arm and gave him a murderous look. 

“Jerica, you will go to your room this instant!” said the chief. “You shame our family in front of our guests.”

“You disgrace yourselves, then,” said Jerica. She stormed out of the room.

“You will have to forgive my apprentice,” said Obi-wan. “He doesn’t take kindly to being offended.”

“Perhaps it is my daughter who is in need of forgiveness,” said Dasiree. “She is stubborn about how we follow the customs of our people, but if she truly believed in our traditions, she would not be so rude.” 

“Perhaps we should send for Ali to wait on our guests,” Chief Kandall suggested.

“No,” said Dasiree. “She might make things worse.”

We ate the rest of the small meal in silence. I was mortally ashamed of being in Anakin’s company at the moment and didn’t even look at him.

When we were finished eating, we were hardly full. Dasiree decided to show us to our rooms so we could get settled, though what she meant by that we hardly knew, since we didn’t have any baggage to unpack.

Jerica was sulking in the hallway when we were being shown to our rooms, and there was another scarved head poking out of a door. 

“This room on the left will be yours, Lord Kairin. Your servant should have set out your baggage on the bed.”

“Yes, he did,” said Kairin, poking his head into the room.

Dasiree took us to the room at the end of the hall. “And this will be the room for you Jedi, but I hope, Lord Kairin, that I do not impose too much by asking you to share your bed with at least one of them.”

“Bed?” said Master Kenobi. 

Dasiree held the door open and we looked inside. There was a large bed with a plump feather mattress on it, covered with a patterned quilt. There was also a vanity, a nightstand, and several woven mats on the floor. 

Anakin and I looked at each other, then at our masters. 

“Mistress Sansadari,” said Master Nish, being the first to regain his composure, “we thank you for the generous accommodations, but the Jedi abstain from such luxuries as, erm, sleeping on feathered beds. We prefer sleeping mats on the floor.”

“Well,” the mistress of the house said kindly, “ you would be the first. I wish I had known of this custom sooner, Master Jedi, but perhaps I can -- “

“No, we’ll be just fine sleeping on the beds,” Obi-wan cut her off. “How many people can one hold?”

“Up to three,” Dasiree answered him, startled. 

“I don’t mind sharing at all,” said Lord Kairin. Well, he really did, and the four of us looked at him. And he didn’t notice. “We can put the padawans in this room, and you and Obi-wan can share with me.”

Anakin and I looked at each other, revulsed. 

“Whoa, I am not sharing a bed with Skywalker,” I said. 

“Fine, then. I’ll room with Yzil and Nish. Kenobi and Skywalker can have this one.” 

We heard a stifled laugh down the hallway. Jerica was watching us with her arms folded, but the girl she had been talking to was giggling. 

“We mean you no offense, master Jedi,” said Dasiree.

“None taken,” said Master Nish. He gave out a slow sigh. “Just as well. My back probably wouldn’t take to sleeping on this kind of a floor.”

We heard a gasp from Jerica. “Mother, did you--”

“Daughter, the Jedi can say what he wants about our house. It is none of your business.” 

We went into our new rooms. The chauffeur had dumped his bags--four in all--on the end of the bed. He opened one and began laying out the contents--mostly clothing in the same elaborate style he was currently wearing. 

I examined one of the pillows: it was stuffed with feathers and fat from all of the air inside of it. I heard Jerica’s loud voice complaining outside. I went out to listen at the doorway.

“These Jedi are an affront to our culture and a disgrace to our table and house!” she growled. “We should send them out right away!”

“Well, I suppose you care more about our honor than making peace with our enemies,” her mother said.

“I would sooner our village were overrun with enemies than to have these outsiders lodging with us.” 

“Your anger does not become you, sister,” said the quiet voice of her younger sister.

“Ali, since you are in a more cooperative mood, can you go get some danzel roots from the garden? I want to cut some up to serve on the side.”

“Yes, mother,” said the younger sister.

That younger girl is an angel, I thought. I went to the next room.

Anakin and Obi-wan were having a quiet discussion over what had happened at the dinner table. 

“Am I interrupting anything?” I asked as I entered.

“Not really,” said Anakin grumpily.

Obi-wan was irritated at my coming, but he let me enter. “Does Master Nish need anything?”

“I don’t think so. He’s talking to Kairin while that goof is unpacking. He’s got more of those ridiculous outfits in his bags. The Synri will run him out of town on the back of a potan, the way he dresses.”

“I certainly hope so,” said Anakin darkly.

“Now, Anakin, Yzil, it is not becoming of Jedi to think ill of the people they are helping,” said Obi-wan. “Even if they do lack dress sense.” There were several hooks on the far wall for hanging things, and he hung his robe there. “If anything, finding fault with others keeps you from doing your best to help them. But for a Jedi, it prevents them from focusing on the Force. That Synri girl, Jerica, you see how her resentment of us kept her from wanting to serve us. Such petty resentments are insignificant. They should be put aside.”

“I still think Jerica’s a nut case,” said Anakin. “She treats us like garbage for no reason.”

“You will have to excuse Jerica,” said a sweet voice. We turned to look at the door to the guest room. There was the younger Synri girl, slimmer and smaller than Jerica, and with tiny hands and dainty feet. Her eyelashes were long and nearly hid her deep, gray eyes. Her dark hair was combed and braided neatly under her white handkerchief. And she had a basket of freshly-picked vegetables in one hand. She was stunningly pretty, and probably not a year or two older than I was at the time--so fourteen or fifteen, at most. 

“My sister belongs to the more radical party of Synri traditionalists. So she’s more concerned about what her friends would think about having you here.” 

“I promise, we mean neither her nor your family any disrespect,” said Obi-wan, smiling at her. “What is your name, dear? I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure.”

“I am Aliykah Sansadari, the chieftain’s younger daughter.” She gave a short curtsey. “You can call me Ali, for short.”

“It suits you,” said Anakin with a smirk. 

Ali giggled a bit. “I get that a lot. And what might your names be?”

“I am Master Obi-wan Kenobi. How do you do?” he walked across the room to shake hands with her. He was surprised by the warm greeting, but pleasantly so.

“I’m Anakin Skywalker,” said Anakin, following suit. “Obi-wan is my Master.”

“How do you do?” said Ali. 

“My name is Ereh Saw Yzil,” I said. I shook hands with her, too, but neither of us were sure if that was the proper greeting, since girls don’t normally shake hands in greeting in either of our cultures. 

“Charmed. And is that your master in the other room?” Ali asked me.

“Indeed.” 

“How nice. I’ve heard quite a bit about the Jedi.”

“None of it good, I reckon,” said Obi-wan.

“Sadly, not much of it,” said Ali. “But I have been to Zokiel once or twice with Father. The traders and pilots there are a little kinder. But I am curious, though. What is it, exactly, that the Jedi do? What kind of people are you?”

“Well, ahem, that’s not easy to explain,” said Anakin, rubbing his shirt a little.

“I would say it is,” said Obi-wan, sitting on the end of the bed.

I sighed. “Here we go.”

“The Jedi Knights are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy,” Obi-wan began. “What makes us different is our connection to a mystical energy field called the Force.”

“What is the Force?” asked Ali.

“He just told you, it’s an energy field--” Anakin said.

“I heard that bit,” she answered. “But what does it do, exactly?” 

“The Force gives those who are attuned to it knowledge about the universe,” said Obi-wan. “We can see the past, the present, and the future. We can discern the truth of others’ intentions. And the Force gives us the ability to manipulate matter and counter the effects of gravity.”

“So the Force lets you levitate things?” asked Ali, wide-eyed. 

Anakin hovered his hand parallel to the rug on the floor and it began to float. Obi-wan didn’t notice what was going on until he heard Ali gasp and laugh excitedly.

“Anakin, she doesn’t need a demonstration!” he rebuked him.

“Well, I thought she’d want one,” said Anakin cooly.

“So to continue,” said Obi-wan irritably, “becoming a Jedi is difficult. It requires years of study and training in the mind and the body. And discipline. Lots of discipline. Which clearly my padawan lacks abundantly.”

“I’m sorry, master,” said Anakin. “It--”

“Won’t happen again? And then it always happens again ten more times after that,” said Obi-wan. He turned to Ali. “I do apologize. You wanted to have a better impression of the Jedi than you’ve previously received.”

“No, this is fine,” said Ali. “But your abilities with the Force make you reputable warriors.”

“And negotiators,” I said. 

“Indeed. How interesting. And you travel across the galaxy and use your powers to help others. Is that it?”

“That would be about right,” said Obi-wan. “You’re a very intelligent girl, aren’t you?”

Ali smiled shyly. “My mother says my head runs away with me sometimes. I wish I could leave here and go get an education in the South or maybe in another system, but I can’t.” She shrugged.

“Well, why don’t you?” asked Anakin.

“Because I love my family too much to leave them. It would break their hearts. And mine.”

“Seems like your sister wouldn’t miss you,” I said.

Ali looked at me, slightly unnerved by the observation. “Well, that’s her problem,” said Ali. “But father would forbid it anyway. We Synri never leave our home villages. It is tradition. And we don’t--”

“Aliykah!” came Dasiree’s voice from the kitchen. “Where are you, girl? Does it take so long to -- “

“I’m coming, mother,” Ali called to the kitchen. “I am sorry. I have to go now and eat dinner with my family. But it was nice to talk to you,” said Ali. “And I hope we will have the chance to see each other again.” 

“Ali!” Dasiree called. 

“Farewell,” said Ali. She walked out of the room. “Coming, mother!” 

“A nice girl,” Obi-wan commented.


	3. Chapter 3

That day, headmen from other Synri villages arrived in Namrah for the peace conference. They called on Chief Kandall Sansadari, expecting to be lodged with him, but he regretfully informed them that the ambassadors from the Galactic Senate had taken up lodging in his guest rooms, and he would usually glance at whichever of us was present in the room. The other headmen were offended, and sulkily went to the homes of the other villagers, some of whom were more or less distant kinsmen, to seek for lodging. 

“One would wish one’s home had more rooms for lodging guests in,” the Mulgan headman Sadith Karmanstor said wistfully. Those were about the most polite remarks anyone gave us. Dasiree and her daughters were all evening cooking breads, casseroles, stews, and other dishes for the upcoming councils, and judging by the smoke in the chimneys of the other village homes the other villagers were busy feeding and entertaining guests. But the mood was solemn, and there was a lot of brooding contempt for the upcoming conference. My master and Obi-wan were in agreement that the Synri sentiment did not bode well.

The next day was the official start of the peace conference. The Kodeel were encamped about two kilometers from the village of Namrah. An opening dinner was due to be held in Namrah’s council hall adjacent to the village square that evening. But an hour before the dinner was due to start, the Kodeel entered the village with a sort of procession. They were as different from the Synri as possible. The majority of Kodeel who came were young and middle-aged men, tall and muscular with long, dark hair and beards. Since it was summer they wore short tunics and sandals with long leather thongs tied around cloth wrappings around their calves. Over their tunics they wore short capes, and on their wrists and lower arms they wore thick, chunky bracelets made of wood, stone and bone, and also necklaces on their necks and piercings in their ears and occasionally noses. Tattoos adorned their faces and limbs.

At the head of the parade were musicians, led by two men playing horns carved from the horns of wild Potans that made a deep droning noise. They were followed by drummers who played on drums of hide stretched over wood. The musicians were followed by the Kodeel holy men, who wore long robes of white hides decorated with bones inserted through slits cut into the leather. They were followed by a group of ten warriors, all carrying long spears tipped with sharpened bone points, but some had rifles slung on their backs and blasters tucked in their belts. 

The Synri villagers turned out to watch the procession, but they greeted their guests with stony faces. The Kodeel walked to the village square and halted in front of the council hall.

Two men who walked at the head of the warriors’ group came to the doors of the council hall to greet the Synri delegation, the four Jedi, and Ambassador Kairin. Their capes were long and trimmed with fur, painted with designs on the back. They both hand a design of a circle inside of a diamond tattooed over their left eye.

Chief Kandall opened his mouth, but nothing good came out of it. “My lords of the Kodeel, do you not remember that it was part of your agreement for attending this council that you would not bring your weapons into our village?”

“We made no such agreement, Synri,” said the elder of the two men proudly. His dark hair was streaked with gray, and he wore it in a ponytail from the top of his head. “We are Kodeel warriors: we take our weapons with us where we will. They are badges of our honor.”

“But your weapons are a threat to the security of our village,” said Chief Sadith. “Your honor means nothing without your trust.”

“And how will we trust that you Synri dogs will not seek to harm us while we are unarmed?” retorted the Kodeel man.

“My friends, my friends!” Jaith Kairin interjected. “This will not do. We aren’t even in council yet and we are already disagreeing. Isn’t it enough, Chief Kandall, that they are even here to negotiate with us? Certainly, Master Jedi, it won’t hurt to allow the Kodeel to bring their weapons into the hall?”

Obi-wan Kenobi opened his mouth to reply, but the Kodeel chieftain cut him off. “And you dare to insult us further by bringing these Jedi sorcerers into our midst? How dare you?”

“The Jedi are not here to hurt you, Kar Jaaw,” said Kairin. “Not you or anybody else who is in attendance at this peace council. They are only here to moderate the discussion. The guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy have vast experience in offering solutions and bringing about reconciliation. They will not--”  
“Your words make no difference to us, you Southern pig!” said the second Kodeel man, who had his beard tied into a thin braid that dangled from his chin. The other Kodeel warriors looked mutinous. The Synri headmen were furious, and the villagers looked ready to either run away or attack. 

“That is quite enough from all of you!” said Master Phish Nish at once. “Now, the women of Namrah have kindly prepared a meal for us inside the Council Hall. Why don’t we all go inside and break bread together. I am sure we are all hungry and in need of nourishment, and perhaps after we have eaten we can begin the discussions in a civilized manner. My Synri friends, the Kodeel do not mean to harm you today. Please remember that they are as concerned about their lands and herds as you are for yours.”

“Very well,” said Chief Kandall. He opened the doors of the council hall.

Jaith Kairin applauded. “Well done, well done, nicely said!” He lavished his compliments on us Jedi as we watched the dinner guests file into the hall, but no one else seemed to care what he had to say. 

We entered the Council Hall. The center or the room was clear for the speakers, and the walls were lined with tables and chairs already laden with delicious food. The Kodeel men were put off that they would be expected to eat at tables like their enemies for the evening’s events--as if eating inside wasn’t already bad enough--but they were still tempted by the food somewhat, since the meat of Synri potans was fatter and less tough. The Kodeel warriors sat at the table on the right side of the hall and the Synri on the left--two of the Kodeel holy men remained, standing behind the warriors’ table, while the others along with the musicians has returned to their camp. Jaith Kairin, Chief Kandall, and Masters Nish and Kenobi were seated at a table at the head with the Kodeel Chief called Kar Jaaw. Kar Jaaw’s companion, whom I guessed was his son, sat next to Etzol, and Skywalker and I sat next to our masters. The Synri women walked through the hall refilling the drinks of the feasters, though cringing a little at the leering and disapproving stares of the Kodeel. The Synri ate as though this were a regular holiday, joking and talking about the weather and the herds and their trades and almost completely ignoring their guests on the far side. The Kodeel dug into the meat, disappointed at their small portions and suspicious of the vegetables prepared in sauces and stews, drinking little of the wine. They spoke little among themselves except to whisper, and they watched the Synri across the hall, waiting for a sign of betrayal. At the head table, Kairin had given up trying to encourage conversation between Chief Kandall and himself and the two Jedi Masters, and we all ate in silence. 

When the meal was finished, the women came to clear our plates away. Then Representative Kairin stood up and spoke.

“I hope that we have all enjoyed our fine meal!” said Kairin. “I would like to thank the women of Namrah village and surrounding parts for the delicious dinner. And I hope that now that we are satisfied with the meal, we will be able to speak civilly as we open this historic peace conference. I would like the heads of each of the delegations to come forward and speak about their objectives for the meetings of the coming weeks.”

He invited Chief Sadith Karmanstor to speak first. Sadith’s voice was almost a monotone, and as he repeated phrases about “the integrity of our villages” and the “undebatable rights of herdmen of the North,” the heavy food began to slowly digest in my stomach and I felt an uncontrollable desire to doze off. Master Nish hissed for me to stay awake and Anakin kicked me from under the table. When Sadith had finished, the other Synri delegates nodded and murmured politely, but the Kodeel watched him with stony faces. Then Chief Kar Jaaw went to the center of the floor to speak. There was no dozing off for me during his speech. He began quietly enough, acknowledging the delicious food. Then he began to talk in depth about the “sufferings” of his people, how they were so dependent on reliable feeding grounds for their herds for their sustenance. And raising his voice and pointing fingers at Chief Kandall and others in the room, he began to blame these injustices on the “arrogance” and “greedy treachery” of the Synri. He concluded that his people would only be willing to continue to live in peace if the Synri accepted the blame for their so-called crimes and conceded the Kodeel to have complete control of their traditional ranges without conditions. And then he sat down. Many of the Kodeel delegates were pleased with their chief’s statements. The Synri delegates murmured fearfully among themselves. While there was plenty of truth to the arguments of both sides, it was clear to see that the exaggeration and distortion came from their mutual dislike. It was going to be very hard to work around, and Master Nish and Master Kenobi were both nervous about this prospect. They would have to be extremely careful not to offend anyone.

Jaith Kairin invited Master Nish to make some concluding statements. Master Nish only spoke for a few minutes. Without naming names or mentioning specific instances, he spoke to both sides about how they both essentially wanted the same thing--a peaceful division of their herding lands so they could sustain their peoples--and how they would need to keep that in mind for the next few weeks. Phish stated that he knew that both Synri and Kodeel delegates were individuals capable of tolerance, compassion, and respect, and that now they needed to show that to each other. He gave them a brief warning that if they did not come to an understanding by the end of the peace conference, that a desire to settle the conflict by the force of arms would cause greater destruction than famine or food shortage ever could. 

There was silence in the room after Master Nish had spoken. No one stirred, not even to whisper. Then Ambassador Kairin stood up and thanked everyone for their attendance and participation. The formal negotiations would begin the next day in the Kodeel encampment.


	4. Chapter 4

Nobody in my group except for Jaith Kairin was looking forward to the meeting the next day in the Kodeel camp. In the morning, Dasiree Sansadari and her daughters fed her husband and us a light breakfast of seasoned grain mush before the other Synri delegates came to the chief’s house. When they arrived, the five of us led them to the outskirts of the village. About two kilometers’ walk outside of Namrah the Kodeel had set up a large encampment for the three clans that had come together for the peace conference. 

The Kodeel tents were dome-shaped and propped on poles made from cedars that grew in the mountains. Since it was summer, the cooking fires were outside in front of the tents. The women wore long, shapeless dresses and kept wraps on the tops of their heads while their hair hung down unadorned. They favored jewelry and tattoos in the same manner as the men did, though not as heavy or abundant. And they frowned at the group of strangers who walked into their camp. The children of both sexes wore short tunics and boots similar to the men and largely ignored us as they played, wrestling and playing tug-of-war with sticks. The older children tended animals and babies while the women cooked and wove and washed. The smoke drifting from the campfires smelled of cooking meats.

Kar Jaaw and his son, Kar Etzol, met us along with a Kodeel holy man and several Kodeel chiefs in front of an extra-large tent set up in the center of the village. Kar Etzol instructed his son to allow us inside. Etzol bent down over the tent entrance to hold open the flap. His father entered first, followed by Jaith Kairin and the Jedi. Etzol held open the tent flap for the Synri delegation and was the last to enter. The space was lighted with an electric lamp that hung from the center of the tent. All of us sat down on the edge of the tent in the order we had entered, Jaaw sitting next to Etzol and closing the circle. The holy man who had come with us stood and pronounced a blessing on the meeting in the ancient language of the Kodeel. The Kodeel chiefs who were with us echoed the words of the prayer at certain parts. The holy man sat down, and Kar Jaaw asked Jaith Kairin to speak.

Jaith Kairin, remaining in his place in the circle, unrolled a map of the north of Dathyel that was drawn on a large piece of leather and spread it out in the middle of the circle. He encouraged the different leaders to talk about their people’s recent experiences herding their animals out in the region in question. The map was passed around the room as everyone talked. Kar Etzol was adamant that the Synri had no right to use the plateau country for their herds at all. He insisted that both sides of the Psiod river had always belonged to the Kodeel and that the boundaries drawn by the Dathyel government were meaningless. The other Kodeel chiefs and their attendants complained that the greedy Synri never kept their end of the treaties, that their herds never had enough room for grazing. The Synri leaders just wanted to know why the Kodeel didn’t just stay on their side of the river and avoid trouble. And where, Chief Kandall asked, would the Synri herds go if they gave back all of the Kodeel lands. The Kodeel chiefs didn’t feel like backing down from their territorial claims. Masters Nish and Kenobi and Jaith Kairin tried to explain that everyone had the right to use the herding grounds as they saw fit, and they needed to share. 

“Of course,” said Master Nish gravely, looking at the different people in the room, “considering the long history of animosity between your peoples, it does make more sense, for the safety of everyone involved, that your herds retain separate lands.”

We stayed in the meeting in that tent for hours, not even breaking for a midday meal or to relieve ourselves. I tried to ask my master telepathically once if I could be dismissed but he said no, it would look bad if anybody walked out. So I had to hold it and listen to the old men of both delegations go on and on about how they deserved to have certain grazing land for their people’s animals. The whole tent still smelled unpleasantly of camp smoke from an old fire, and the room was warm and the air stiff. Sometimes it really sucked to be a Padawan, because you had to do a lot of listening and sitting or listening and standing.   
Finally after what seemed like ages, Jaith Kairin announced that they would continue the discussion tomorrow. Of course today’s talks had gotten nowhere. Neither side was willing to let the other share the disputed territory. Finally the other men got up and stretched. Kar Jaaw opened the tent door--wonderful, beautiful fresh air, finally and at last!--and the delegation filed out of the tent. 

We were treated to a small meal by the Kodeel in front of the council tent, which mostly consisted of a black bean soup, hard bread, and a small portion of stringy meat. We sat on the ground again, but it was much nicer to be sitting outside. Anakin was tired and grumpy and complained to Obi-wan that he wanted to leave this stupid planet already. A part of me didn’t blame him, but as long as I made it back to the feather bed at the chief’s house in Namrah I wasn’t going to complain.

The next day, the negotiations were held in the council hall in Namrah. The Kodeel chieftains and holy men came, and they sat around the tables and talked to the Synri leaders. Other than that, it wasn’t too much different from the previous day’s discussions: in fact it was mostly a continuation of the previous day’s venting and bickering. There was a break halfway through the day and a small luncheon was held. At the end of the day’s talks, there was a dinner, but the Kodeel got up and left before it was served. That left the Synri to gripe about how unresponsive and stubborn the Kodeel were being and how their inclusion in these talks made things more difficult.

The days passed, and the meetings alternated between the council hall in Namrah and the tent in the Kodeel encampment outside of the village. If Jaith Kairin’s strategy was to wear everyone down with the constant talking, it must have worked. One of the Synri elders proposed a compromise on the fifth day of negotiations that the Kodeel chiefs (excluding the unmalleable Kar Jaaw) were interested in. For two days the delegates hammered out the details and proposed alternatives, but the atmosphere had changed somewhat. My fellow Jedi and I were starting to feel like this was getting somewhere. 

But then a week after the negotiations had opened, a messenger arrived in Namrah from Purida City. King Dowan had discovered what Jaith Kairin was up to, and he was displeased. Furthermore, he had heard that he had invited the Jedi to come help without his express approval. In the Namrah council hall, the messenger played a hologram message from the king that spelled out his wishes for the peace meetings to stop until the Jedi had left and the king had sent a royally-appointed commission to discuss the dispute. Furthermore, he said, the Kodeel had his leave to not agree to meet with the Jedi, Jaith Kairin, or the Synri, or to uphold any decisions that they made. The recording ended, and the messenger left. The Synri were furious. They wanted a resolution to the conflict as soon as possible, but the king’s demands would make things take longer. The Kodeel, however, were feeling pretty smug. The Kodeel did not recognize Dathyel’s government, but the king was mad enough at the Synri to recognize the Kodeel--a mortal blow to the already wounded pride of the Synri. And King Dowan’s approval implied that they could continue to take what they wanted by force. Both parties, however, were mad at Jaith Kairin, since he had given them the impression that the king had approved of his holding the peace conference. 

I remember Obi-wan rubbing his hand over his face and through his hair in frustration. My master just sat there and stared at the table. The meeting adjourned for the day with everyone in a huff.

Jaith Kairin tried to hunt down the Synri and Kodeel chiefs and ask them to reconsider continuing the conference. The four of us Jedi went back to the Sansadari house to discuss the situation. Jaith Kairin returned late that night to announce that he had managed to get some of the major chiefs to agree to continue meeting, even without the approval of the king. The discussions would continue the day after next in the Kodeel camp. My master and I and Obi-wan were relieved: we felt that the peace councils needed to continue.


	5. Chapter 5

Anakin, however, could care less about the politics of the whole affair. He was very bored by all of the proceedings, and he had little to do. Obi-wan sensed his disinterest and let him be, unlike my master, who continually nudged me to stay focused and attentive. None of us were there out of any personal interest in the welfare of the Synri or the Kodeel, but in matters such as these the Jedi were always so impartial.

The one thing that kept Anakin going through our stay on Dathyel was Aliykah Sansadari. She treated the four of us warmly, always inquiring after our welfare in the evenings when we returned, even if her mother already had. We were more comfortable asking her for favors than either of her parents and especially Jerica. But she always had a broad smile on her face for Anakin, and he liked her smile. Obi-wan rubbed his forehead and complained that he got too easily attached to people who showed him any kindness.

The day after the king’s messenger had come, the negotiators decided to take a day of rest, so the four of us Jedi stayed at the Sansadari house while Jaith Kairin went and visited the other Synri chieftains who were staying in Namrah. Master Nish and Obi-wan stayed in our guest rooms and meditated, sitting cross-legged on the straw mats on the floor. Anakin and I were invited to join them, of course, but after mid-morning we were both restless and our masters decided to dismiss us. The expectation was that we would meditate on our own, but as long as we didn’t do anything reckless or stupid they didn’t care what we did.

Jerica Sansadari was visiting her friends in the village: her mother Dasiree had said she was helping one of her friends’ mothers with their weaving, but of course what she was really doing was discussing local politics and expressing disapproval of the peace conference and the Jedi with her like-minded companions.  
Dasiree was in the kitchen, preparing the afternoon meal. Skywalker and I were in the living room: I was contemplating taking a nap on the hard bench cushions, while Anakin was playing with a transmitter that he and Obi-wan had brought, taking it apart and putting it back together to see how it worked. Ali had gone to deliver something for her mother to one of the neighbors. She hadn’t been gone for long, however, when she returned. Anakin and I both looked up at her.

“Jedi Anakin, I was hoping I would find you,” said Ali. 

“Do you need something?” he asked, attentive.

“My friend Tolob’s speeder bike won’t start. The village repairman is busy--you said you could fix anything?”

“I did, and I can,” said Anakin, smiling very slightly.

“Would you come with me to Tolob’s house, please? He has to go to Mulgan check on preparations for his sister’s wedding in a few days.”

“Gladly,” said Anakin, standing up. 

“Can I come, too?” I asked, sitting up on the bench. 

“Sure, as long as you don’t touch anything,” said Anakin.

“Anakin, don’t be such a tease,” said Ali, patting his elbow. Anakin didn’t really like people touching him, but he was too fond of Ali to complain.

Anakin and I left our robes behind and followed Ali down the street. Tolob lived just three houses down. He and a man I presumed was his father were outside in front of the house, tinkering with the engine of speeder bike in question. Anakin had apprised the situation a mile away.

“No no no, don’t do that,” he said, kneeling down in between the two gentlemen. Tolob’s father was taken roughly aback but Tolob watched Anakin curiously as he took their tool and undid what Tolob had just done. Anakin then showed Tolob how to fix the bike properly and explained how to diagnose its symptoms correctly. Ali and I watched, both of us even more ignorant in these affairs.

Anakin wiped his hands off and then told Tolob to go ahead and start the bike. He and Tolob’s father backed out of the way and Tolob got on top of the speeder and hit the ignition. It grunted and grumbled for a moment but then started to purr steadily.

“There, see, it should go now,” said Anakin as Tolob turned off the speeder.

Tolob looked up at him gratefully. “Did you use your powers to fix it?”

“No. But on most other worlds repairing engines like that is common knowledge.”

“Ha, imagine that--a whole galaxy full of people who know how to fix a speeder,” Tolob said. “Well, thank you for your help, Jedi Anakin.”

“Not a problem, and if you need anything else, let us know.” He gave a nod to Tolob’s father, who only grunted in approval. 

The three of us left Tolob’s house.

“That was wonderful, Anakin,” said Ali eagerly.

“Oh, it was nothing,” said Anakin. “But I guess it looks impressive on a...in a place like this.” He had been trying hard not to say “on a backwater planet.”

Ali giggled and took his arm. And he let her walk him back to the house.

When we returned to the Sansadari’s home. Dasiree was making progress on dinner but it would still be a while before it was time to eat. Anakin and I resumed our places in the living room. Ali, however, was asked by her mother to sweep the floors. Ali got out a broom from behind the living room door and started to brush the floor with the bundled twigs. Anakin and I had never seen anything like it before and watched her.

“What?” asked Ali, noting our glances.

“What are you doing?” he asked her.

“I am sweeping the floor.”

“Sweeping? What does that entail?” 

“I am brushing all of the dirt into a pile, and when that is done, I will sweep it outside.”

“Oh,” I said. “Interesting.”

“That’s the kind of thing they have droids for on Coruscant,” said Anakin.

“Of course,” said Ali. “But the Synri do not use droids for anything here.”

Anakin sniffed. 

So primitive, I thought.

Ali reached her broom under the benches where we sat and rolled up the mats to get the dirt from under them.

“But if you’re just putting the dirt outside,” I said, “anyone who steps over the threshold is going to be bringing that dirt with them on their shoes and feet. So in the end sweeping isn’t really efficient.”

“Hm, that’s true,” said Ali. “But it cleans the floor and makes it look nice. And it’s fun.”

I scrunched my eyebrows. “Fun?”

“Hardly my idea of fun,” said Anakin.

We watched her sweep all of the dirt she found in the living room into a single pile. She then went into the hallway and started to sweep from the far end.

Anakin got off of the couch and went to talk to her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“You were thinking you would like to talk to me.”

Ali laughed. “You take advantage of reading my mind too much.”

“Well...if it makes you happy.”

“All right, then. Tell me about the other places in the galaxy. You mentioned Coruscant?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the capital of the Republic, right?”

“It is indeed.”

“And what kind of a planet is that?”

“Well, it’s not a very big planet, but it’s covered entirely in enormous metal buildings, skyscrapers and factories. It’s just a single big city.”

“Oh really? I’ve never been to a city.”

“Well, a city is--”

“I know what a city is,” Ali said sharply. “But how tall are the buildings?”

“Well, some of the buildings are just towers hundreds and hundreds of stories tall--like a thousand houses on top of one another. And then these are already on top of buildings that are even bigger. Some places on Coruscant are so far below the main level of the city that they never see the sunlight.”

“Oh, how dreadful!” 

“It is dreadful--that’s where Yzil here came from.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, watching from the living room. I scowled at him for reminding me.

“And where did you come from?” asked Ali.

“Tatooine. It’s a desert planet on the far side of the galaxy from here, in the Outer Rim. No grass, no plants, no trees, just rocks and sand as far as the eye can see. That’s even more horrible than the underlevels of Coruscant, if you ask me.”

“I should think so,” said Ali. “But Coruscant sounds just as inhospitable, if not more so. How does anyone live on these planets?”

Anakin explained to her about the galactic economy and shipping from habitable worlds to worlds that were less-so. It was the most education about the outside world that Ali would ever get in her lifetime. And it excited her. As Anakin kept on talking, Ali continued asking him questions. 

When it was time for the afternoon meal, Jerica and Cheif Kandall came home and Jaith Kairin returned. Dasiree asked me to call on our masters to come to the kitchen and eat. The rest of us would have talked on other subjects but Anakin could hardly eat for wanting to show off to Ali everything he knew. Obi-wan was very hard put to not tell Anakin aloud to shut up and let the adults discuss more important matters. My master got a headache. But Jerica sat there and fumed at the two of them.

Finally the meal ended. Dasiree and her daughters took away the dishes from the guests to clean them, but Anakin continued to talk to Ali. Ali couldn’t bring herself to break away from the attention that Anakin was fawning on her. Finally Dasiree spoke up and turned away from the sink.

“Jedi Anakin, I appreciate that you have been so entertaining to my daughter, but would you kindly leave her alone and allow her to clean the dishes now.”

“Oh, yes, forgive me, Madam Sansadari,” he said, bowing to her. “We’ll talk later, Ali.”

Ali gave him a nod. Anakin turned to leave but Obi-wan was waiting in the hallway and dragged him by the collar.

“You most certainly will not talk with her later, young man!” he lashed out.

“We weren’t doing anything, Master, and you know it!” Anakin said hotly, breaking free from Obi-wan’s grip.

“You would do well to listen to your master, Skywalker,” said Master Nish. “As innocent as your interactions may be with Aliykah, your spending so much time with her is unbecoming of a Jedi.”

“Now let me make one thing clear to you, Phish,” said Anakin, lowering his voice, “I do not have any...inappropriate feelings towards her.”

“Yes, but she does toward you,” said Nish, almost in a whisper. “If you give her the wrong impression, she may tempt you.”

“I can control myself,” said Anakin bitterly. “I’m not gonna treat her like that. But I like spending time with her. She’s nice to me.”

“Anakin,” breathed Obi-wan.

“And besides, nobody else on this stinking planet wants to give us the time of day. Why stop her?” He looked at Nish and Obi-wan and then walked away to his room.

Master Nish stroked his chin thoughtfully. Obi-wan folded his arms.

“But I don’t like it, though,” said Nish. “None of her family approves of her relationship with Anakin, no matter what shape it takes, particularly Jerica.”

“This could only lead to trouble,” said Obi-wan.

We all went to bed early that night, feeling disdainful towards Anakin. Jaith Kairin tried to smooth it over, saying we should ‘let young folks be young folks.’

 

The next day, however, we went to the Kodeel camp to resume the peace conference, and the three of us were too preoccupied with the feud to worry too much about what Anakin was feeling. The talks that day lasted until past nightfall, and when we finally trudged back to Namrah, all four of us were exhausted. Jaith Kairin stayed behind to talk to the Kodeel chiefs.

Dasiree and Jerica were in bed, but Ali was in the living room mending her family’s clothes by hand when we returned.

“Goodness, you all look so weary,” Ali exclaimed when we entered. “Can I get you anything?” 

“Meeeh, we’re fine,” said Master Nish as he collapsed on one of the benches. 

Anakin groaned. “Something to drink, I’m so thirsty,” he said, sitting down next to Master Nish and removing his boots.

“A little bit of food wouldn’t hurt, either,” mumbled Obi-wan.

“Same for me,” I added.

Ali put down the mending and went to the kitchen. She pumped water for us into cups and got out some food from the icebox.

“Some leftover guut cheese might tide you over,” said Ali. “And a cut of kindar salad--it’s cold but--”

“That’s just fine,” said Anakin, going over to the table where she’d left our cups of water. He brought them back across the living room and gave one to each of us. You couldn’t say Anakin was unkind. Ali brought over a platter with slices of kindar and cheese. 

“What have you been up to today?” Anakin asked her as he ate.

“I’ve been doing the mending since after dinner,” said Ali, sitting back in her corner. “But most of today I’ve been getting ready for my friend Kattina’s wedding--Tolob’s sister.”

Obi-wan nodded. “When is that supposed to be?”

“Three more days from now,” said Ali. “Do you think the Kodeel will have made a settlement by then?”

“It’s hard to say,” Master Nish said, shaking his head. “They’re certainly dragging their feet--and since King Dowan’s edict they’ve been even less willing to negotiate. I sort of doubt it.”

Ali nodded. “There is talk that if the negotiations have not concluded by then they will have to be put on hold. Guests from the village of Mulgan are supposed to start arriving tomorrow.”

Obi-wan nodded wearily. “I don’t think there’s any sort of shortcut we could take to making a peace agreement with the Kodeel before the wedding. But we can certainly work around it.”

“Why can’t the wedding celebration be held somewhere else?” asked Anakin.

“Because it is Synri tradition,” said Ali, standing up to carry the empty platter back to the sink. “The groom moves in with his bride’s family when he gets married, and the wedding day is supposed to celebrate his arrival.”

“I see,” said Master Nish. “I do not think the Kodeel are interested in interrupting one of your people’s celebrations, provided that the Synri do not provoke them.”

“Kattina’s wedding date has been set since long before the peace conference was arranged,” said Ali. “Even with the struggles we’ve been having against the Kodeel her family and the groom’s family are still interested in going forward with the marriage. And they’ve been betrothed for so long already.”

“I see,” said Obi-wan. “Well, if the negotiations aren’t finished by the wedding day, I can guarantee that we’ll find a way for the marriage to still go forward.”

“My friend’s family would be most appreciative of that, Jedi Obi-wan,” said Ali. 

Anakin removed his outer robe. “It’s so warm in here. It’s warm outside, too. And we were in that stuffy tent all day.”

I sniffed my robe. “My clothes smell like smoke from the Kodeel campfire.”

“I could wash them for you tonight, if you wanted.”

Master Nish chuckled. “Miss Aliykah, you are too generous. Isn’t it past your bedtime already?”

“I can do it in the morning, if you want,” said Ali. “How badly do you need your robes for tomorrow?”

“Actually tomorrow’s meetings don’t start until noon,” said Obi-wan. “They decided to delay them, since today’s meetings went so late.” He shook off his robe and held it out for Ali.

“Then I will wake early tomorrow and wash these,” said Ali, collecting our robes.

“Bless you, Aliykah,” said Phish, smiling.

“It’s not a problem at all. Anything special as far as clothing treatment for these?”

Obi-wan shrugged. “They’re meant to be worn anywhere. Washed anywhere too, I guess.”

“Thank you, Ali,” said Anakin.

“You are very welcome, all of you,” said Ali as she took his robe--she gave him that special smile of hers. There was something unsettling about the way she looked at him, in my mind.

There was also someone lurking in the hallway behind the kitchen wall, listening to our every word. I wasn’t sure who it was, but then when Ali went to take our robes to her room she gave a small gasp of surprise. 

“Jerica, what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing up so late?” Jerica answered her.

Ali didn’t respond. Jerica was going out to use the outhouse. When she was gone, we Jedi went to our guest rooms.

 

In the early morning, Master Nish and I went outside to meditate. The air was cool and crisp and there was a slight mist around the village. While Nish and I were meditating, Ali went to the village well for water, and she brought this to a washtub, and then she scrubbed all of our outer robes by hand. She was very happy to do something to help us, but Nish and I paid her little mind.

Then as she was wringing out our robes to dry them on a line in front of the house, Jerica came storming outside.

“Aliykah, you should be ashamed of yourself!” she said. She pulled one of the robes from out of Ali’s hands and threw it on the ground. “Washing the clothes of our guests, indeed!”

“Jerica, do you need to be so rude,” said Ali, bending to pick up the fallen item.

“I won’t have it!”, said Jerica, standing in front of her. “The Jedi can take care of themselves. You don’t need to do anything for them. Bad enough we have to feed and board them--we don’t need to be serving them hand and foot. And you shouldn’t have given them our leftover food last night. Do you know how hard it is to make cheese?”

“I can always make some more,” said Ali.

“Sister, this is far beyond cheese,” said Jerica. “We cannot let the Jedi take whatever they want from us. Think about your people! We have been ruled by the Dathyelans and the Republic for too long! These--these outsiders mock our way of life, our culture and traditions. They will take our resources and our land from under us. That is all they want.”

“The Jedi want none of those things,” said Ali. “They want to bring peace to the galaxy.”

“Peace? You are so naive, if you knew what was really happening in the galaxy you would turn them out to the streets where they belong. The Jedi are here to enslave us, to make sure the Republic can take whatever it wants from us! Ten years from now, our rivers will be polluted, our herds killed off, we’ll be living in poverty while the Republic sells our weavings and our meat to dogs on the far side of the universe!”

“Jerica, you have been listening to your radical friends again. Maybe all those horrible things will happen, but we can’t improve that outcome by turning our backs on strangers who are trying to help us.”

“Listen to me, sister, if I told you that the Republic had already agreed to give away all of our lands to the Kodeel, would you be washing their clothes?”

“That’s nonsense!” said Ali. “Who told you that? Ruther? Kolet?”

“It was Jaysa. Chief Uldor of Lurinmath is staying with her family. He knows exactly what Jaith Kairin and the Jedi are trying to accomplish. The peace agreements are a facade: the Republic is going to take over everything.” Jerica folded her arms and looked at her sister smugly.

“But you know that isn’t true, because the Jedi are staying with us, and Father is on the councils, too. Our village isn’t even connected to the HoloNet. We don’t know what’s really happening in the galaxy. So you shouldn’t listen to everything you hear.” Ali had washed out the soiled robe and was wringing it out.

“I don’t need the HoloNet or the Jedi or Father to tell us what’s going on. I know exactly what’s happening. And the Jedi are no good--none of them are. All of the ones who are staying with us will bring us trouble and ruin and dishonor, especially the way you’re helping them out. And that Anakin Skywalker? He’s the worst of the lot.”

“You just don’t like him because he got mad at you for spilling soup on him,” said Ali, hanging up the robe to dry again.

“You mark my words, sister. You will pay for being too kind to these Jedi.” Jerica went back into the house. 

Ali hung up another robe, feeling disheartened by her sister’s cruel words. Phish and I pondered the situation from a distance. Ali was disappointed that her sister had nothing better to do than to buy into the radicalism and paranoia of her friends. And Jerica wanted to love her sister, but she had been taught to eat, sleep, and breathe hatred and fear of outsiders. 

And if I thought my loathing of Anakin was awful, I do not wish to comment on how terrible Jerica’s was.

Our clothes were still just a little damp when it was time to go to the Namrah council hall for the day’s meetings, but they didn’t smell like smoke and dirt anymore, in any event. 

I wondered how Chief Kandall felt about Ali’s relationship with us, how she went to all the extra effort to see to our comfort. He was more worried about whether or not the Kodeel would agree to any terms we set.

 

The next day, a meeting was held early in the morning in the council tent of the Kodeel camp. The day’s discussion ended on a positive note in the early afternoon, with the Kodeel chiefs agreeing to consult among themselves to see if they would let their herds graze on different lands. My friends and I returned to Namrah in a better mood than normal. My master and Obi-wan decided to return to the Sansadari house for the remainder of the day. Dasiree and Jerica were in the front rooms, Dasiree cooking for the upcoming wedding and Jerica hemming a dress. Anakin and Obi-wan decided to retire outside to do Force exercises and lightsaber practice. Phish went to join them, but I declined, saying I wanted a nap. But after a few minutes lying down on my bed, I figured out I wasn’t very sleepy.

I went to the living room. “Where is Ali?” I asked.

Jerica looked up at me, offended. “What do you want to bother her for?” she snapped.

“Well, I haven’t seen her today,” I said, not feeling like retorting.

“Ali is cleaning her room,” said Dasiree. “She won’t mind you.”

In Ali and Jerica’s bedroom, Ali had swept the floors and taken out the rugs. She was now putting freshly-washed linen on the bed. 

“Hello,” I said.

“Good afternoon, Jedi Yzil,” said Ali brightly. She asked me how the day’s meetings had gone, and we chatted while she finished making the bed, finishing with pulling a quilt over the sheets. Then she invited me to sit down on the bed with her. I obliged.

“So is there any particular reason you were cleaning up your room?” I asked.

“No. Well, there is the wedding, the day after tomorrow. It’s not that I’ll be hosting company or anything, but I find that I like, before a special occasion comes, to clean out my home, just so everything looks nice and feels nice.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I don’t really have a room of my own. Back at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant I sleep in a dormitory with the other padawans, and of course when I’m out in the field I lie down wherever my master does. And Jedi are forbidden from owning possessions other than their gear, so I don’t really have stuff that needs to be organized.” I shrugged.

“Really?” Ali said, arching her brows. “How come you are not allowed possessions?”

“Well, the principle we try to cultivate is detachment from the physical world. The less you worry about material things, the better you can understand the Force. And the Force helps us understand things that are not material, like politics and government and other people’s desires.”

Ali nodded. “I see. But what about other immaterial things, like love and friendship and relationships?”

“Well, of course we are supposed to have...positive interactions with other people, and cultivate good relationships so we can help others. And it is good to have friendships with other people in the Jedi Order, my master says. But we devote our entire lives to studying the Force and serving the galaxy. We can’t stay in one place too long. Being attached to other people--having lasting relationships for personal benefit--is highly discouraged because they interfere with our emotions. So our friendships aren’t allowed to be too deep. And we can’t fall in love or be in committed romantic unions or have families.”

Ali frowned. “That must be hard.”

“Well, I’m young, and I never knew my family, so I’m used to the idea at this point of not having one of my own. I’m looking forward to being a Jedi Knight. But...don’t tell anyone I said this, I do feel bad, sometimes, that I can’t have friends with other people my age, or that I can’t spend more time with people I admire and look up to. And I do feel bad that I can’t be better friends with you, Ali. You seem like a nice person.”

Ali chuckled. “It is better than not being friends at all, I think. I am fond of all four of you Jedi,” she said. “I admire you for what you do, but it is too bad…” She drifted away, looking at the wall of her room.

“What’s too bad?”

She covered her mouth and chuckled more loudly.

“What?” She was hiding something.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“A secret?”

“Well--we are friends, aren’t we, Yzil? We can tell each other secrets--that’s what friends do.” She looked at me.

“All right, tell me.”

She leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I am terribly, terribly fond of Anakin Skywalker. I think he is very handsome.” She leaned away from me, giggling so hard she was almost spitting.

“What?” It took a minute for me to realize what she was saying. “Oh. You like him?”

“Yes,” Ali said, still laughing.

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. Why do you think that of him?”

“Well,” she said, grabbing a pillow from the head of her bed and placing it in her lap, “a lot of reasons. But, like I said, he is very handsome. His hair is curly--I like curly hair in men, it is a pity that it is not allowed to grow longer. And his eyes are so bright, my,” she shook her head. “And his smile...such a beautiful, generous smile.”

Okay...you’re crazy, I thought.

She sighed. “But I don’t just like him for his looks, oh no, I am not quite that shallow. I love how generous and noble he is. So willing to help! And he is so intelligent and knowledgeable and well-traveled.” She rested her head on her arms. “There are hardly any Synri boys who are like that.”  
I didn’t have the heart to tell her what a selfish, pompous jerk Anakin actually was.

“Well..I’m sorry to hear that, Ali,” I said. I was in way over my head. “Maybe someday you’ll meet a Synri who is like that. And maybe a little ...more available than Anakin.” I tried patting her back. 

Then Ali sat straight up on the bed and turned towards me, sitting cross-legged, still with the pillow on her lap. “Tell me more about Anakin,” she said.

“Well,” I said, trying to think of something impressive, “I heard that before he was found by the Jedi Order he was a podracer on Tatooine.”

“A podracer? What is that?”

I explained to her about podracing and what little I’d heard about Anakin’s exploits. “Supposedly he was the only human who could do it. And only nine years old. That’s why Qui-gon Jinn--Obi-wan’s old master--thought he was such a find, and everyone who’s heard about it thinks he was so powerful.”

Ali ate it all up. “Have you worked with him before?”

That would probably save me the embarrassment of telling her the bad stuff I’d only heard about Anakin. And I guessed it was an easier way to break it. I was starting to tell her about our trip to Garel when there was a knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in,” said Ali.

It was Chief Kandall. “Aliykah, your mother wishes you to bring her vegetables from the garden.”

“Yes, Father. I will have them for her in a minute.”

Chief Kandall left the door open and walked away.

Ali turned back to me, leaning forward and taking my hands in hers. “Well, I suppose if I have the chance I should ask Anakin himself about his exploits.”

“Oh he’ll love that.” She didn’t catch the sarcastic inflection in my voice.

“How old are you now?”

“I’m barely twelve,” I said.

“Well, perhaps you are a little young to be worried about matters of love,” said Ali. “But you mark my words, Jedi or not, one of these days a handsome young man is going to catch your eye. And you’ll like it when he does.” She patted my hand and got off the bed to go to the garden. I went outside to rejoin my master and try to put this ridiculous nonsense out of my head.


	6. Chapter 6

Two days later, there was a wedding in Namrah. The wedding festivities had brought in many visitors to the village, chiefly from the groom’s home village of Mulgan. The Synri chiefs and delegates who had come for the peace conference were willing to attend the festivities. With the ceremony and festival being held in the evening, the negotiations with the Kodeel could not continue as normal. Master Nish and Master Kenobi both decided that they would excuse themselves from the wedding in the evening and go visit with the Kodeel chiefs in their encampment. As a favor to us padawans, and in the interest of providing security to the revelers (not that they wanted any), they decided to allow Anakin and myself to attend the wedding and eat at the feast. Master Nish, however, charged us strictly to not participate in the dancing with the other villagers.

“And whatever you do,” he told us in the Sansadari house before he and Obi-wan departed, “I implore you, do not do anything to disgrace yourselves in the eyes of these people or to encourage their mistrust. I want you both on your best behavior. Show them what it truly means to be a Jedi--uninvolved, impartial, impassioned.”

“Yes, Master,” I said. Anakin said nothing. It was bad enough when Obi-wan told him what to do, but worse still when someone else’s master made the rules.

“Well, enjoy the wedding within those bounds, I suppose,” Obi-wan shrugged as he and Phish headed towards the door. 

“Good night,” said Master Nish. 

Anakin and I made no reply. The door closed behind our masters and we were left to our own devices, which mostly meant waiting until the festivities began to head out with the family. Synri weddings were always held at sundown and the celebrations lasted through the night. Anakin and I had already bathed in some cold well water, and combed our hair with a wood comb borrowed from Dasiree. The hours leading up to sundown, Jerica and Aliykah were getting dressed, combing their hair and ironing their clothes. 

The traditional Synri costume consisted of, for the men, a long tunic, trousers, tall boots, a vest, and a cap usually decorated with a pin; for women, short boots, a long dress with bell-shaped sleeves, a skirt, and a bodice. For the head, women wore handkerchiefs, decorated if they were married, plain if they were not. Both men and women wore long surcoats with flaps on the shoulders sort of like capped sleeves. Nearly every Synri who could afford it had special outfits for celebrations in which all of the pieces were elaborately embroidered. On festive occasions such as these, Synri men also donned short capes and the married women wore shawls.

When the rest of the Sansadari family was ready, we went with them down the street to the village square in front of the council hall. Dasiree and her daughters carried the platters of food they were contributing to the wedding feast. The whole village was in the square, dressed in their colorful clothes and talking excitedly. And the excitement was, for us Padawans, rather catching. A few minutes before sundown, the bride’s father came to the square to announce that his family was ready. We had not long to wait before the groom and his immediate family from Mulgan made their entry on foot, with a guut laden with the groom’s belongings and gifts for the bride. The villagers followed the bride’s father and the groom’s family to the bride’s home, with Chief Kandall Sansadari walking with the bridal party. Anakin and I walked next to Ali and Dasiree. Jerica lingered behind us, talking to some of her friends. 

“So what happens in the ceremony if either the bride or the groom do not have a family?” I asked Ali.

“It is not unheard of,” said Ali. “Usually a family that the bride or groom is close to will stand in to take part in the ceremony. Synri weddings aren’t just about uniting the lovers, they’re about uniting their families as well.”

The wedding party gathered in front of the home of Ali’s friend Tolob Uldumani, for it was his sister Kattina who was being married. The groom was Katon Garathonat of Mulgan, a sturdy lad of about seventeen years of age. Kattina was only sixteen. 

Kattina, Tolob, and their other siblings were waiting on the threshold of her family’s home for her father to return with the groom. Though I sensed Kattina’s excitement to see her new husband, she held very still, her arms folded under her brand new shawl, dripping with fringe and covered with beautiful woven designs. Her hair was completely hidden under her embroidered bridal head kerchief. Her parents and siblings displayed similar gravity, as well as the groom’s family.

Kattina’s father took the hand of Katon as they approached the house, and he gave it to his daughter. The two families then lined up on either side of the threshold, facing each other. Chief Kandall stood on the doorstep and led the bride and groom in reciting pledges of fidelity and vows to devote the rest of their lives to each other’s welfare. They also vowed to raise their children to honor their family, their village, and the customs of their people. Anakin found this part very tiresome, and I gave him an elbow in the ribs when he yawned. People were mostly focused on the ceremony, but a few cast glances at us to see if these outsiders were showing any respect to their customs, and smirked when they suspected we were not.

The bride’s father then poured wine from a flagon into a carved goblet. The bride and the groom each drank. Then the groom passed the goblet among the members of the bride’s family, and the bride for the groom’s family. Kattina and Katon then returned the goblet to the Chief. The Chief pronounced them husband and wife and proclaimed a blessing on them, their families, and their posterity.

Katon and Kattina went before their families to stand in front of the village as man and wife. The family shouted the bride and groom’s names, and the villagers responded “Long Life!” This was repeated three times, and amid a general clamor that followed, the bride and groom kissed. I had never seen a man and woman kissing before. I didn’t necessarily think it was gross, but strange that two people would put their mouths together to express affection. Ali, however, watched them with a big smile on her face: her favorite part of any wedding was when the bride and groom got to kiss.

We followed the villagers back to the square. The dining tables had been covered with white cloths and each one had a little paper lantern on it for illumination. As much as I (admittedly) looked down on the primitive practices of the Synri, I thought the lanterns were rather pretty. There were also lights hanging on the corners of every building in the square, and the whole space was bathed in a warm, yellowish light. 

Anakin and I sat down with the Sansadari family at one of the tables to partake of the sumptuous feast. Ali, of course, delayed herself from joining us by going to share her congratulations to the bride and groom and her friend Tolob’s family. Only about half of the wedding guests were seated at any given time, the rest were either harassing the bridal party seated at a table in front of the council hall or chasing down friends and relatives to exchange greetings.

After everyone had eaten their fill, the feasting tables were removed and the lanterns on them hung on the sides of buildings in the square. Most of the older people returned to their homes, taking the empty dishes and platters with them. The younger people, including the newlyweds, the bride’s brother Tolob, and Jerica and Ali and their groups of friends, started to gather around on the edge of the square. A group of musicians appeared in one corner and began to tune their strange instruments. Anakin and I didn’t listen to music very much, but even for other sounds we’d heard across the galaxy the Synri’s choice of instruments was peculiar: mostly high-pitched pipes and boxes with strings crossed over them that I guess are equivalent to fiddles and guitars. We took our cue to lean back against the wall of one of the houses to the side and watch. 

Ali wandered across the square to find us.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to dance, Jedi Anakin?” she asked him, a longing look in her eyes.

“No. I’m pretty sure my master would say no if he was here.”

“And you, Jedi Yzil? Are you going to just sit and watch also?”

“Well, somebody’s got to keep an eye on Anakin,” I said. “My master told us not to dance.”

Ali nodded. “I see. Well, if you change your mind, it won’t hurt you.” She gave a nod to Anakin and left us.

Anakin sighed. He didn’t see why he didn’t get to join in all the fun with all of the other people our age.

The pipes began to play, and the excited murmur of the crowd became cheering and yelling. Boys grabbed the hands of girls and led them into the center of the village square. The dancing began as the strings joined in with the pipes in a lively melody. I had never seen anything like it before, and neither had Anakin. Sometimes with one hand or with both the boys would take the girls and lead them around in circles, sometimes they would break apart and clap. It was pretty mesmerizing to watch, with the girls’ skirts swishing out as they skipped and jumped in time to the music. And the excited talk and laughter continued while they moved. The first dance had everyone standing in partners, staying in one part of the square and the men and women dancing around each other. The music stopped and everyone clapped. Then another song began almost as fast in tempo as the last one had been. Some people changed partners and others switched so they could dance with their other friends. The next dance had all of the couples standing in two cocentric circles that moved in opposite directions as they held hands. The girls every so often would whoop and spin and move over to the next boy in the circle. There was a lot of joy in how they moved. Ali had not stopped smiling the entire time.

I caught my foot tapping once or twice of its own accord. Anakin was pleased by what he saw...but as the hours began to pass he became more impatient that he couldn’t join in.

There were several more dances of fast tempo, some in which the dancers would exchange partners, others in which they kept only one. The dance formations were either in circles or lines. Sometimes the bride and groom would join in, other times they would watch. They were both thinking about going home to bed. Ali Sansadari had danced with the bride’s brother Tolob at least twice.

Then the musicians started to play some slower music with a one-two-three beat. Some of the dancers grabbed the nearest person to dance with them, a slow, stately dance. Ali had been dancing with Tolob beforehand, but then he left to go find someone else. Most of the other boys standing near her were already taken. Ali returned to watch on the far side of the square. Anakin and I couldn’t help noticing that she felt a little sad at not being able to dance. Anakin took off his robe. Skirting the edge of the dancing group, we crossed to join Ali. She sat up a little when she noticed us approaching.

“Well, Jedi Anakin,” she said, “I thought you said you weren’t interested in dancing.”

“I’ve changed my mind. But as a Jedi it is my duty to serve and protect--and I cannot do that duty if you are unable to dance, my lady.”

“Well--would you like to dance with me?” She said.

Anakin held out his hand. “You’ll have to show me how, though.”

Ali smiled and gave her hand to Anakin. “Well, Anakin, let me show you how to do the waltz.” They stood far apart, and Ali began to explain to him how to waltz, moving their feet in a box formation. I watched with a little curiosity, but I was slightly irritated that Anakin was doing what Master Nish had explicitly told him not to do. Anakin occasionally got the steps mixed up and stepped on Ali’s toes by accident, but they were both laughing about it. I couldn’t help smirking as I watched. Once Anakin had mastered the steps, Ali moved closer to him and showed him how to hold her arm and take her waist. They hadn’t been able to try out this position for very long, however, when the music ended.

“Oh,” she said, her face dropping as she let go of Anakin. “It seems I spent a little too long instructing you.”

“That’s okay,” said Anakin. 

But then the other dancers in the square began chanting for the band to play another waltz. The musicians started another waltz right away. Anakin and Ali looked at each other and took off dancing through the crowd. I watched them. Anakin was having fun, all right. But Ali--Ali had the current man of her dreams in her arms, she was ecstatic. And to this day I don’t think Anakin had a clue that she liked him, he was too busy trying to be the rebellious padawan.

The waltz ended, and they came back to where I was standing. Ali had managed to keep a hold of Anakin’s hand.

“Well, are you two having fun?” I asked. I added telepathically to Anakin, Do you know that Obi-wan is gonna kill you later?

Anakin disregarded my mental comment. He laughed. “Don’t be such a stiff, Yzil. Lighten up. You should join in the fun. Dancing is amazing--right, Ali?”

“Yes,” said Ali.

One of Ali’s girl friends came up and asked to dance with Anakin for the next number. Ali was about to say no, but Anakin butted in and accepted the girl’s invitation, taking her by the arm to join a circle forming in the middle.

“Anakin, are you sure? You haven’t learned this dance,” Ali called to him.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said nonchalantly over his shoulder. 

Just then two strapping young men came up to Ali, racing to ask her to dance with them first.

“Ali, would you care to dance the Tressel Toss with me?” asked the first.

“Why, yes, Contor,” she said, giving him her hand readily.

“Are you sure you’d rather not dance with me?” said the second.

“I am sorry, Urwat,” said Ali, smiling. “But you can dance with Yzil. She needs to join the party.” 

I sighed. I was perfectly content to watch, but taking Anakin’s lead to “serve and protect” didn’t seem like a bad excuse. “I guess I might as well,” I said, shedding my outer robe.

Urwat watched me hesitantly. I gave him my hand and he led me to the circle of other dancers. Anakin shouted “All right!” When he saw me. Some of the other young folks whistled and cheered, while a few, mostly Jerica and her group, frowned at us. The music began. This particular dance, you had to stand with your partner holding your waist and hand like for the waltz, but you moved quickly back and forth, sliding across the ground. And then every so often the girls would get picked up and spun, and they would give a high-pitched cheer. I was frankly very nervous. I kept stepping on Urwat’s toes and bumping into the other people next to us, and on one of the lifts I nearly kicked someone in the head. But I kind of liked how Urwat’s hands were bigger than mine and held them securely, and that rushing feeling in my midriff when he carried me along was interesting. I kind of wished I had a swishy skirt like the other village girls, but other than that I was actually having fun. I was laughing when the dance ended. 

At the end of the Tressel Toss, Kotar and Kattina announced that they were going home. Everyone gave a shout and a few close friends hugged them and gave them final goodbyes and congratulations. They soon left the square and vanished into the darkness beyond it, but the rest of us kept on dancing. I was a little winded after that first dance. But I was having fun.

I figured Anakin and I would be okay to keep dancing, as long as Obi-wan and Phish never found out. The next dance was a fast number with everyone in a circle without partners, we just stood in place and clapped and spun most of the time, but on the choruses we would link hands and skip around the circle. For the next dance we paired off but changed partners. Then there was a line dance with the boys on the right and the girls on the left, and every so often two of them would pair off and walk up in between the lines. I ended up going with Tolob. Everyone who watched me thought I was cute, giggling every time a boy touched my hand.

The following song was slow and in three-quarter time again, and Anakin found me so he could do the waltz with me. I was very overwhelmed at how much taller he was than me, but he was very careful with how he led me through the steps. It actually wasn’t that bad.

The next number was a fast dance where everyone had single partners. Anakin turned around when the music started and saw Jerica and one of her friends, Talina, standing close by.

“Hey, Talina, you wanna dance?” He asked her.

Talina gasped. “Well, I never!” Jerica looked affronted. They both moved away, giving him dark looks.

“Hmph, their loss.” He offered me his hand again. I took it without hesitation. He stepped on my toes a few times (his feet were so much bigger than mine) but other than that we had fun. 

“Thanks, Anakin,” I said when it was over.

“See, I can be nice to you,” he told me, and he grabbed my nose and squeezed it roughly. He went to find another partner for the next dance. There were a couple of more fast dances that involved changing partners, and for one of them I did a turn with Anakin. 

Then there was a line dance that required partners. I was completely out of breath and had a stitch in my side and decided to sit this one out. Anakin, however, was determined to find a partner. 

Jerica Sansadari came and took a break with one of her male friends, a boy named Petaron, and they ended up sitting not far from me. 

Anakin walked up to us. He seemed determined to get Jerica to dance with him. I was trying to tell him telepathically that it was a very bad idea but I don’t think I could have reached him at that moment if I wanted to.

“Jerica,” he said, “would you like to dance with me?”

“And why would I want to do that?” Said Jerica hotly.

“She is taking a rest,” said Petaron, giving Anakin a dangerous look.

“Well, would you be interested in dancing later, perhaps?”

“Why would I be?” Jerica answered, lowering her voice.

“You Jedi should know better. If she wanted to be dancing, she would be out on the square with the other girls,” said Petaron.

“Well, my mistake, then,” said Anakin. “I won’t bother you, then.” He turned around.

“You are a fool, Skywalker!” Jerica called after him. “You and your Jedi friends should leave!”

Anakin turned around. “I didn’t need you to say anything to me.”

Petaron moved himself in front of Jerica. “Our village doesn’t need your Jedi scum here, telling us how to live with our enemies. And how dare you join in our dances which you know nothing about!” 

“Do you want the Kodeel to overrun you and kill everyone?” Said Anakin, his voice raising.

“The Synri are as good warriors as the Kodeel, if not better,” said Petaron, walking forward to confront Anakin. “We don’t need your help to fight them.”

“You know what, if you don’t like my face, just say it,” said Anakin. And then Anakin shoved Petaron in the chest. Some of the people standing close by gasped.

“Fine, I think your face is revolting!” Petaron shoved back. “And so does Jerica!”

“Well, then why doesn’t she tell me herself?” Anakin punched Petaron. Petaron recovered quickly enough to grab Anakin and stop him before he attacked Jerica. Jerica screamed.

The musicians stopped playing. The people in the square stopped dancing. Some of the older men and boys ran to break up the fight. I dived in to grab Anakin but the village men had gotten to him first so I tried to pull them off. I was shoved backwards onto the ground, and if I hadn’t rolled out of the way I would have been trampled. 

As much as Anakin liked to use the Force to display his power he wasn’t above using his fists. Someone managed to pull Anakin off of Petaron. Petaron had a black eye. Anakin’s lip was bleeding. He wiped it on his sleeve and threw himself back at Petaron, kicking and punching him, and both ended up on the ground, rolling in the dirt. Most of the crowd was screaming and calling for them to cut it out, but a few bold ones near the front were chanting and egging on Petaron. I had a glimpse of Ali struggling to get to the front and reach Anakin. I tried to cut through the milling crowd and got shoved around quite a bit in the process. In the end I arrived at the front of the circle and lunged to grab Anakin by the shoulder--but was pulled back by the collar by one of the responsible adults. It was at that moment that Chief Kandall Sansadari and a group of village elders appeared to break up the fight. The crowd quickly fell silent. Someone else had Anakin in a stranglehold, and Petaron was being held by his wrists.

Chief Kandall looked around crestfallen at the scene. “Does anyone have any idea who started this?”

“It was Skywalker!” someone shouted.

“It was the Jedi! Both of them!” said another. A torrent of cries and accusations rang out from the crowd condemning us. Ali watched in disbelief as her countrymen pointed their fingers at us.

“That’s not true!” shouted Anakin, breaking out from under the arm of the beefy man holding him but being immediately pulled back. “It was Jerica and Petaron!”

“What did they do?” asked the chief, his eyes flashing at his daughter.

“Jerica was being rude to me,” said Anakin. “And then Petaron shoved me.”

I raised my voice. “It’s true! I saw--” the man holding me clapped a hand over my mouth.

“Skywalker shoved Petaron first!” Jerica shouted. 

There was a murmur from the crowd. I saw Ali clasp her hand over her mouth and shake her head. 

The Chief looked on both of his daughters, and then at us and Petaron. “Well, regardless of who attacked whom first, you should all be ashamed of yourselves, disrupting our festival with your wanton and reckless behavior.” He was boiling mad, but he kept himself composed. “Skywalker and Yzil, I think it best that you two be locked away for the night to cool your heads. Petaron can be confined to his home. And I think the rest of you should go home as well.” He waved a hand in dismissal.

The dancers and revelers were furious, but, dejected, they began to leave the square, talking amongst themselves. Petaron was led away. Jerica and Ali came up to speak with their father--well, just Jerica, actually. Ali was so horrified that she couldn’t bring herself to defend us. She just watched us as tears were streaming down her face. Anakin looked up at her, but she only looked away. She started to walk home by herself just as Anakin and I were led away.

Well, now she knew what Anakin was really like. Honestly, I didn’t feel sorry for her.

The two men leading away me and Anakin held our arms firmly behind our backs. I was afraid mine were going to break. We were taken to a walled shed in a house not far from the village square. The man who was carrying me opened the door and threw us both in roughly so that I landed on top of Anakin. Before we could disentangle ourselves completely someone who had followed them threw in our robes. And then the door was slammed shut and a lock bolted over it. We heard their footsteps retreating, and then there was silence.

Anakin and I put on our outer robes. I was slightly grateful we had them but Anakin was too angry to care. He started using the Force to try the lock on the outside of the door. He couldn’t do much more than make it rattle loudly for a few minutes. Finally someone came up and banged on the door and told us to stop it. After the warning, Anakin waited in silence for a few moments. Then he stood up and started trying to pry apart the walls of the wooden shed with the Force. The shed wasn’t built very well, at least compared to construction styles in other parts of the galaxy. The walls shook quite a bit but they wouldn’t give. Anakin strained, sweat breaking out on his face.

“Anakin, stop it,” I said, finally. “You can’t do it.”

Anakin dropped down onto the ground next to me. “But...I should be able to...I thought the Force could do anything.”

“Certainly you should have figured out by now that it can’t,” I said. ‘The Force can do anything,’ really? I was amazed at his stupidity. Every Jedi pupil, from the youngest younglings, knew that the Force couldn’t do everything. “Besides, we’d be in even bigger trouble if we broke out of here.”

“At least we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I didn’t feel like it. We sat and stewed in the silence for a few minutes. We listened to the last of the wedding guests returning to their homes. 

“Anakin,” I said, “why did you ask Jerica to dance with you? You knew she was going to say no.”

“No I didn’t,” he told me.

“What were you trying to do, then?”

“I was trying to give her an opportunity to not be such a jerk,” said Anakin. “I thought maybe she’d like me better if we danced.” Therin lay one of his faults: he cared too much about whether or not people approved of his actions. 

“She wouldn’t like you better even if you crawled under a rock and died,” I said. 

“Well, I guess we’ve both learned something today,” said Anakin.

See, I told you Anakin didn’t have people skills. 

“Well, I don’t know if I’ve learned anything today,” I said, “except that you’re as big of a jerk as I always thought you were. How could you be so reckless, thinking that you could just mouth off and expect the Synri to be fine with whatever you had to say?”

“It’s their problem!” Said Anakin. “Petaron and Jerica and their mess think they’re so much better than us, they’re always demonizing us when we’re trying to use our power to help them. It’s not our fault they don’t trust us! I mean, did you see how quickly they accused us, Yzil?”

“Yes, I did,” I said grumpily. I needed to take a moment to vent my own spleen. “Those fat, stuck-up blowhards, the chief and his men. The chief would never believe us over his own daughter. But did you not stop to consider the fact that you were risking offending the chief, by offending Jerica?”

“I don’t need you to go back and analyze everything I did wrong, Yzil!” He said to me, almost yelling.

“Well, maybe someone should do that for you--not that you’d learn anything from it.”

“Well, why weren’t you there to back me up?”

“Why would I have wanted to back you up in a fight you were going to lose?” I said. “I didn’t do anything wrong, why should I help you out when you’re messing up?”

“Well, you were out there dancing with me!”

“Only ‘cuz I was too stupid to say no and sit and watch you all night like an idiot. I couldn’t have stopped you if I wanted to. And now we’re both going to be in trouble with our masters--for your stupidity!”

“You’re a coward, Yzil.”

“And you ruined everything.”

“Did not.”

We lapsed into silence again. For the next while after that, every so often we would make barbed exchanges on this vein, trying to blame each other for what had gone wrong, and also casting heaps of blame on Jerica and Chief Kandall. But Anakin also blamed Ali.

“What? What did she do?”

“She could have stopped her sister from trying to hurt me,” he said. “Where was she?”

“She was out dancing with someone else--”

“She didn’t do anything to try and stop this. She didn’t say a word to her father in our defense. How could she?”

“Well, I’m sure after your little display tonight she wasn’t interested in helping you out anymore. She’s disappointed in you, I’m sure.”

“How can she be? I never did anything to disappoint her.”

I tried to explain to Anakin what his little fight with her sister’s friend had meant to her, but he kept interrupting me. Finally Anakin slumped against the wall of the shed and stopped talking to me. He wanted to sleep now. So I curled up on the floor. Even with our robes, the chill night air still crept inside the little shed and nipped us, adding to our discomfort. So we slept, but it wasn’t a very pleasant sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

If you want a good summary of the life of Obi-wan Kenobi, then imagine the scene before myself and Anakin now: Master Nish, Jaith Kairin, and some of the Synri elders watched in the background while Obi-wan was pacing back and forth in front of us while knelt on the ground in front of the shed where we’d spent the night and waited for him to deal out judgment. And the entire time he could only mutter two words: 

“Anakin...why?….Anakin..why?...Anakin...why?” He threw his hands up in the air and dropped them again. 

Master Nish finally spoke up. “For goodness sake, Obi-wan, say something else! It wasn’t entirely Anakin’s fault. Yzil was dancing, too.”

“Yes, but Yzil wasn’t the one who shoved Petaron,” said Obi-wan, glaring at us. 

I would’ve liked to, I thought, but I didn’t say anything.

“No, no, I won’t have it,” said Obi-wan, reading my mind. “You’re the younger Padawan, Yzil, you shouldn’t have to worry about looking after someone older. Anakin, I thought you knew better than this!”

“Than what?” said Anakin.

“Than...disobeying our direct orders to not join in the dancing, and then getting into a fight with someone. The nerve of it! You see, Nish! I told you it was bad idea! Leave the Padawans alone for five minutes and they get into trouble! Mark my words, you will both be disciplined by the Jedi Council for this--and harshly. And Phish and I--” 

“Jedi Obi-wan,” Chief Kandall spoke up.

“Yes, sir?”

“In the interest of the village, might I suggest that you and your Padawan as well as Nish and Yzil no longer lodge in my house?”

Obi-wan sighed. “If that is what you think is best. Where can we stay?”

“Oh, no, Master!” Anakin shouted, but I held him back.

“As far as I know, there are no other families in the village that would be willing to take you,” said Chief Kandall. “You know...it is not terribly cold this time of year. Perhaps you could sleep outside. And my wife would still be willing to bring you your meals, if necessary.”

“If we must, then,” said Master Nish, sighing.

Jaith Kairin looked at the Chief. “Am I no more permitted to sleep inside of your house either, sir?”

“No, Minister Kairin,” said Chief Kandall, putting a hand on his shoulder. “This incident is not your fault. You are welcome to keep your bed.”

“Heh...well, thank you, sir.” The normally bouyant Kairin was a little gloomy this morning. He was displeased with our conduct, though not half as much as our masters were.

“It’s Kairin’s fault!” shouted Chief Sadith of Mulgan in the background. “He invited the Jedi to come!”

“That will be quite enough, Sadith,” said Kandall. “Minister Kairin is trying to help us--”

“Kairin is a puppet to the southern interests!” someone else shouted. “He’s trying to buy our land out from under us!”

“All outsiders are treacherous liars!” shouted a woman.

Someone threw a dirt clod at Jaith Kairin.

Truth be told, Jaith Kairin was hardly as magnanimous as he presented himself to be. He had only intervened in the feud because the Dathyel thought their interests in the north were threatened and wanted him to do something. But that still didn’t make him as callous as the villagers thought he was. 

Chief Kandall told us to walk over to his house, with the proviso that we Jedi were not to enter, while he attempted to calm his people. All five of us went there, dejected.

If there was one thing that could have ruined the relations of the Jedi with the north of Dathyel for good, it was this. The villagers who watched us as we passed by leered at us and spat in our direction. Someone threw a rock.

The best we could really hope for at this point was to wrap up negotiations with the Kodeel as soon as possible. 

Dasiree Sansadari set out a noon meal for us on the wood pile behind her house, but she did not speak to us when she brought the food outside. In fact she couldn’t even bring herself to look up at us. 

The four of us Jedi went to the Kodeel encampment for an afternoon meeting with the Kodeel. When we got back that night, we went to Chief Kandall’s house and asked for bedding so we could sleep outside. Dasiree gave us a couple of thin sheets.

“Well, I suppose we can wrap up in our robes and spread these out on the ground,” Phish said, trying to sound cheerful. Obi-wan looked at him despondently.  
We found a spot a short distance from the house and spread out the sheets. It was hardly fair, the way we were being treated, but none of us dared to complain about it. Anakin and I both sat and stewed in the silence. Obi-wan and Phish talked about the prospects of getting a good deal with the Kodeel--which weren’t very good, after what had happened at the wedding, and conversed about diplomatic work in general.

“Diplomacy and negotiation are good things for the Jedi Order to do,” said Nish. “But I don’t like it. I think a Jedi’s first purpose should be to learn about and commune with the Force, without going out and about in the galaxy.”

“Well, don’t you ever wonder if diplomatic work is a good way of finding out the will of the Force?” Asked Obi-wan, reclining on his balled-up robe.

“It can be, sometimes. But for the most part it’s just an excuse to neglect improving oneself,” Master Nish said sternly. “I think it works best the other way--find out the will of the Force, and then use that knowledge to help others. And I think going out and about is a good way for Jedi to do more harm than good--if you get my meaning.” He was implying the recent fiasco.

“Of course,” said Obi-wan. “But a disciplined, attuned Jedi should be able to conduct such work, in theory, without these problems occurring. Besides, I thought you were a fan of getting the Padawans first-hand experience.”

“I am, but I am rethinking my position,” said Nish. “I think Jedi Masters should be more selective about the excursions they take their Padawans to. If it teaches them to be better Jedi, then yes, let them accompany you.”

“And you’re saying this hasn’t?” Said Obi-wan.

“Well, so far, it looks that way.”

“Do try to be optimistic, Phish. Things have a way of turning out for the best, sometimes. And Qui-gon always used to say your focus determines your reality.”  
“I am not an optimist, I am a realist,” said Phish. “A Jedi who takes things as they are is much better equipped to handle whatever he encounters.”

Anakin and I looked at each other. It sounded like they were just trying to find more ways to ruin our lives. It was tough being a Padawan, sometimes. Tough being a Jedi, period. You didn’t have a lot of privileges. And being a Padawan meant you got shortchanged a lot.

All four of us having to sleep outside was a bummer, but Anakin and I were fed up more than ever. It took some getting used to, the idea of not being able to go into the house and sleep on that feather bed again. Heck, I’d been starting to get used to it without noticing. But we were facing a long, cold night on the hard ground. It didn’t seem like it could possibly get any better. But then when I was looking off towards the field behind the Sansadari house I suddenly saw my shadow outlined in a flash of gold light behind me. The others noticed too. We looked up towards the house and saw someone coming towards us carrying a light and...blankets???

“Ali?” I called out.

“Jedi Nish, Jedi Obi-wan,” said Ali as she stepped closer, her footsteps rustling in the grass. “The rest of my family are abed. I thought I would bring you some more bedclothes.” She was carrying an electrolantern in one hand, and hanging folded in the crook of her arm were blankets upon blankets, and there were a couple of pillows squished in between.

Obi-wan gave a sigh of relief as Ali handed him a few. He fluffed the pillow excitedly.

“Thank you, Aliykah,” said Master Nish, smiling up at her.

“You are welcome,” she said as she handed out the rest of the blankets. The quilts were a bit tattered and the pillows flat. “I had to dig in the back of the closet for these, but they won’t be missed.”

“Your father would be furious if he knew you were here,” said Obi-wan.

“I know, but I think he’d understand. He asked you to sleep out here in the first place.”

“Hey, it’s better than having to commute to Zokiel every day. Even by speeder, that’s a long trip,” said Nish.

“Yes. I’ll bring out your breakfast tomorrow.” She turned to leave.

“Thanks again, Ali,” I said.

“Now wait just a minute,” said Anakin, standing up. He hadn’t said a word since her arrival. They had glanced at each other uncomfortably once or twice. But he was bursting to confront her. He walked up to her and grabbed her by the arm rather roughly. “Tell me what’s going on, won’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought we were friends, Ali. Didn’t you try to stick up for me even once?”

“I--I did--”

“You just walked away!” said Anakin, raising his voice. “Why didn’t you try and help us?”

“Is this about last night?” Ali said, her tone getting an edge to it. “Look, I tried to explain to my father it wasn’t your fault--”

“You tried? Sounds like you failed to me!”

Obi-wan was starting to feel uncomfortable. Nish and I tried to divert our attention elsewhere.

“Anakin, Father believed me, he really did, but everyone else in the village is furious. They --”

“It doesn’t matter what they think!” he said, throwing away her arm. She looked frightened. Anakin didn’t usually treat her like this. “Yzil and I spent the night in a shed! Now we’re having to sleep out here!”

“Anakin? Why are you mad at me?”

“If you want to help us out, why don’t you talk to your father again?” said Anakin. “Tell him the truth! Tell him what a liar Jerica is!”

Ali squinted her eyes at him, stung. “Well...if you’re going to treat me like that, then perhaps you can tell him yourself.”

Anakin was taken aback by the retort. “What? I--”

“Goodnight.” 

She stomped away back to the house, swinging the lantern down by her side.

Well, it seemed like Ali had gotten over her fondness for Anakin pretty quickly. I still wasn’t sorry for her. In fact, I was glad she’d learned her lesson. But she never showed any of us other three any fondness after that, either. 

We didn’t say anything to each other, but spread out our blankets and pillows and tried to get as comfortable as we could on the hard ground. It was slightly cloudy that night--I mean, it had been slightly cloudy weather during the entirety of our stay, but it hadn’t rained yet. But, anyway, there wasn’t much to look at in the sky. 

The next morning someone left out four bowls of porridge and some bread. It wasn’t the best breakfast in the world, especially for four people with cold toes and stiff backs. But we didn’t complain. We went to the day’s meetings in the Namrah council hall conscious of the fact that we smelled like dirt and our clothes were mussed. No one said anything about our appearances. The Synri, however, were not well-disposed toward us after what had happened at the wedding. The Kodeel delegates exchanged smug looks at our having been slighted but remained as ill-disposed towards the Synri as ever. Well, it’s like Master Nish told me on a different occasion: having a common enemy is never a cause for unity

 

In my brief time as a youngling at the Jedi temple, I had spent many hours listening to the old masters talking about the ways of the Force and the history of the Order and our struggles against the Dark Side in the distant past. It was from Yoda that I first heard about the Prophecy.

“A delicate balance there is in the Force: the Light Side and the Dark in equal power must be kept, in order for there to be Peace. In recent times, begun to grow has the power of the Dark Side. Not powerful like they once were, the Jedi are now. But a Prophecy there is. Listen carefully you must, younglings. One there will be that is powerful in the Force. Balance he will bring to the light and the dark. Justice restored will be. Power returned will be to the Jedi as before. Rise soon, the Chosen One will.” I remembered that particular lesson very vividly.

The second night out in the open, I was unable to sleep. I got out of bed to visit the outhouse. When I got out, I heard voices coming from our encampment. It was Master Nish and Master Obi-wan. I hadn’t realized they were awake. I stayed behind the outhouse and listened. I heard my master say something that caught my attention.

“But if you think Anakin could be the Chosen One, shouldn’t you be training him differently?”

“I wouldn’t know,” said Obi-wan. “I don’t see any reason why I should make Anakin an exception. It wasn’t me who thought he could be the Chosen One. It was Qui-Gon.”

I leaned my head out a little.

“Qui-Gon thought it was plausible at first, but then told me as he lay dying that he knew it as a fact,” said Obi-wan. “I still have a hard time believing it, though. The Force is unnaturally strong with Anakin, but I don’t think it’s anything special.”

“But what about the rumors among other members of the Order? Nobody who knows you or Anakin is convinced. I’m certainly not,” said Master Nish.

“Phish, you don’t need to be so concerned. It’s none of your business whether or not Anakin is the Chosen One. It isn’t anybody’s.” 

“But they’re saying if the Chosen One has appeared by now, then he would be easier to recognize. He would be naturally more obedient, more controlled. Anakin is about as disobedient and willfull an apprentice as any--in fact, if you do not mind me saying so, he is the worst I have ever met. He’s worse than even my own padawan!”

“Well, you only think Yzil is as frustrating as she is because you work with her--the same way I think Anakin is a handful. It’s just your point of view. But you only know Anakin based off of a few bad experiences. I’m sure it’s just a phase he’s going through.”

“Obi-wan, I have known you long enough to know you better. You are blinding yourself. That boy is not going through just a phase, his arrogance is plugged into his personality and he will never outgrow it. And everybody in the Jedi Order thinks that it is your fault for not conditioning him to let go of his pride.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, then it’s not my problem,” said Obi-wan. “It is his. He can face the consequences himself, when the time comes.”

“Well, in the meantime, you’re the one suffering for it. And as powerful and unpredictable as Anakin is, I would think, that when the consequences of his pride do come,the repercussions could be massive. For the Order and the whole galaxy, perhaps.”

“That is a possibility I am willing to accept”

“You are not!”

“Well, I just try to keep in mind that Anakin’s good aspects outweigh his bad. He could make a difference for the better in this world, I know he could. He just--needs to get his act together.”

“Obi-wan, Obi-wan,” said Nish, shaking his head. “You know better than to keep making excuses for him. Just because he’s going to be facing the trials here in a short while doesn’t mean you should brush off his behavior.”

“I’m not brushing it off,” said Obi-wan. Then he sighed. “I’m just...that’s how I’ve been coping, I guess, with the fact that I can’t do anything about it. I want to change him if I can, I really do, so he can be the best Jedi he can. But that change won’t come unless he lets me help him. And I don’t think he’s going to.”

“Such are the frustrations of every teacher,” said Nish, “who are trying to shape and to mold the character of the young.”

“Do we really mold their characters, Phish?” Asked Obi-wan.

“Well...I think it’s their choice in the end, whether they decide to be like us or to do as we say. The only guarantee is that we are passing on the skills and the knowledge we have. The rest is really not under our control.”

They both stared off into the empty field, now being covered with a nighttime mist. Then they both laid down on their makeshift beds and tried to go back to sleep. Only then did I sneak out from behind the privy back to my sleeping place.


	8. Chapter 8

That morning, the sun broke through some of the morning clouds and bathed part of the sky in a brilliant pink at sunrise. I was squinting a little as I lay awake, waiting for the others to rise. Then I thought I saw something large and black passing in front of the sun. There was a long, keening cry of a wild animal. I looked towards the sunrise and saw a group of gigantic, winged animals soaring through the sky, weaving in and out of the clouds. They had long necks and long tails and wings as broad as their bodies were. I couldn’t make out the details of their features very well, but I sat up on my pallet to watch them flying overhead. Several of the creatures called to each other in that high, mournful wail. It was beautiful. The flock eventually passed over the village and disappeared towards the south.

Dasiree brought out fruit and bread for our breakfast that morning. I described the creatures I had seen.

“Oh, those are the barods,” said Dasiree. “They eat the wild grains and keep away from humans, mostly. They don’t bother our herds. And the Synri think them a sign of good luck.”

Nish and Obi-wan both rolled their eyes, since Jedi don’t believe in luck. But I thought it was a good sign.

Well, if the barods had brought us any good fortune, it didn’t work out. 

We joined the other members of the Synri delegation and walked to the Kodeel camp. When we arrived, the Kodeel chiefs were standing in a line in front of the council tent, and they didn’t look happy. A group of Kodeel warriors were waiting behind the, armed to the teeth and blasters at the ready.

“My friends!” called Jaith Kairin in astonishment. “My friends, what is the meaning of this?”

“Minister Jaith Kairin,” said Kar Jaaw, “we have decided that we no longer wish to treat with you or with these Synri dogs.”

“Why, the nerve--” Chief Sadith of Mulgan began, but Chief Kandall held him back.

“We cannot trust them to uphold their agreement with us,” said Kar Jaaw. “Whatever measures you get us to agree to will ultimately work in their favor. And the Dathyel government will never support it. We do not wish to continue the negotiations.”

“Now, whatever gave you reason to come to that conclusion?” asked Master Nish.

“A discussion held among the chiefs just last night,” said Kar Jaaw.

“The Synri are men of their word, are they not?” said Chief Kandall. “This accusation of our honor is insufferable.”

“If you do not wish to suffer for your honor, then,” said Kar Jaaw’s son Kar Etzol, “then stand up and fight for it. Or go back to your homes like the cowards you are.”

Several of the Synri delegates cried out.

Obi-wan and Nish were about to step in between the two parties, but then Kairin went forward. Waving his arms, he said, “Gentlemen, please! We were so close to reaching a solution! Certainly we could discuss our grievances--” 

One of the Kodeel chiefs grabbed Kairin by his fancy collar and dragged him to the ground. The chief and several warriors started beating him up. One of two of the Synri chiefs pulled blasters out of their pockets.

“No! Let us handle this,” said Obi-wan. He and Anakin already had their lightsabers out. Master Nish instructed me to stay behind and protect the Synri delegation.

The Kodeel chiefs pulled out blasters and allowed their warriors to come to the front. Anakin and Obi-wan rushed forward with their drawn lightsabers. The Kodeel opened fire on them to mow them down--as if! Obi-wan kicked the men who were beating up Jaith Kairin while Anakin confronted the Kodeel warriors. They hit his exposed areas with the butts of their spears while Anakin tried to cut them to pieces. Nish went to help Obi-wan get Kairin out. Obi-wan ended up fighting with Kar Jaaw and Kar Etzol both at once--for an older man, Kar Jaaw was still surprisingly agile. Obi-wan used a Force push to get Kar Etzol out of the way, and he fell to the ground. Obi-wan then kicked Kar Jaaw to the ground. Kar Jaaw sat up on his knees. Obi-wan brandished his lightsaber at his neck. Kar Jaaw finally raised his hands. 

Obi-wan turned off his lightsaber. “Stop fighting, all of you!” he shouted above the melee. The Kodeel stopped shooting their blasters. Master Nish and I turned off our lightsabers. Anakin was still fighting one of the warriors. He gave the guy a kick to the face and then turned his off, standing over him.

“Now that’s enough from all of you!” said Master Nish, looking at the confused Kodeel and the cowed Synri. He helped Minister Kairin to his feet. Kairin’s clothes were torn and dusty. “Now, we’ll give you all a day to rest and cool your heads. If you’re tired of negotiating, then tomorrow we’ll meet again and we won’t adjourn until we’ve reached a final settlement. Both parties should know what they want at this point. So either get over your grievances or make your peoples leave each other alone.” He shook the dust off the sleeve of his robes.

“Yes--exactly,” stammered Jaith Kairin. “Listen to the good Jedi. He has your best interests at heart. There is no need for further bloodshed or fighting from any of you.”

But then he and Master Nish noticed a commotion off to their left. Anakin was standing over two prone forms of Kodeel warriors. Other Kodeel had gathered to examine them. One of the corpses had a broad lightsaber gash across the front. The other had been stabbed.

“They’re dead,” said Kar Etzol, touching one. “Kar Minon--Skywalker has killed one of our chiefs,” he said, looking up slowly and Obi-wan and Anakin. Anakin backed away. Obi-wan grabbed his shoulder--whether to protect him or to keep him from leaving, it was hard to say. 

“Well--he was trying to kill me,” said Anakin defensively.

Kar Etzol sprang to his feet. “By the laws of our people, this one should be dead!” He shouted, pointing at Anakin. Obi-wan and Anakin backed away a couple of steps. Kar Etzol held his spear up.

“Sir, this is uncalled for,” said Obi-wan. He raised his hand to do a mind trick--people were more susceptible to suggestion sometimes when they were angry. 

“Anakin is young, he doesn’t know his own strength.”

Kar Etzol snickered. “Your young apprentice is of age. He knew perfectly well what he was doing.”

Master Nish came forward. “Yes, but so did your chief when he took up arms against us. Violent intents meet violent ends. His death is his own responsibility.”

Kar Etzol gave a low growl and glared at the three Jedi.

“I will deal with Anakin myself,” said Obi-wan, waving his hand. “He is my responsibility. Your friend’s death is his own.”

Etzol glanced over his shoulder at his father, Jaaw. Kar Jaaw nodded at him sternly.

“Very well,” said Kar Etzol. “But see to it that this boy’s crimes do not go unpunished.” He gave a final glare at Obi-wan and Anakin and walked away.

Obi-wan, Anakin, and Phish hurried over to me. The other Synri delegates were leaving.

“What happened?” I asked them.

It was Anakin who answered me. “It’s like you said, Master, it’s their own fault they got in the way and got killed.”

Obi-wan grabbed Anakin and pulled him close. “Listen to me. Killing them was unfair and uncalled for.”

“They have blasters, don’t they?” 

“Anakin, you were right to leap to the defense of the Synri negotiators, but held the lives of the people you were fighting too lightly. Killing people isn’t a joke, Anakin.”

“It’s no joke that they would have killed us.”

Obi-wan let go of him. “When we get back to Coruscant, young one, you will do meditation exercises on the value of life. Long ones. You will not disappoint me like this again.”

“Yes, Master,” said Anakin, looking away and bowing his head a little. It bothered him that Obi-wan got so worked up about him killing a couple of people. 

We started to walk back to Namrah, already yards behind the Synri delegates. As we left the Kodeel camp, I looked back at the two dead warriors. There was a woman kneeling beside one of them, and she lifted up her head and gave a long, loud howl of grief. As much as I didn’t blame Anakin for killing the two people, I realized what Obi-wan meant about not taking a life lightly.

 

The next day, there was one final meeting in Namrah. Jaith Kairin, motivated by the desire to get the two peoples to agree upon something, started the day’s proceedings by giving a short, passionate speech about how disgusted he was with the conduct of both parties yesterday and how going to war over the disputed lands would be a bad idea for both of them. The Synri, of course, agreed with his statements, and the Kodeel decided grudgingly to go along with it--if anything to be rid of both the Synri and the southerner who had suddenly intimidated them.

Chief Kandall Sansadari made a proposal, and after three hours of discussion the details were hammered out and a treaty was arranged. The Kodeel would remain north of the Psiod river, and in addition, to make up for their “overgrazed territory”, the Synri would also let them use lands to the south and west. The Kodeel, in return, would avoid the lowlands away from the Gurimgam Plateau and the Psiod river where the Synri lived. Kairin referred to it as an “extra-legal agreement,” since he didn’t actually have the authority or sanction of the planetary government. He would, however, create a bill in the Dathyel Assembly that would reflect these territorial changes. The Kodeel chiefs were reluctant but willing to accept the agreement: the additional lands were only a fraction of the territory they had claimed. The Synri chiefs felt it was the best they could do, and the additional lands was a huge compromise. Their people would be up in arms when the word got out. Our small Jedi delegation, however, felt that all parties, in time, would adjust to the changes. Chief Kandall and Kar Jaaw shook hands very uncomfortably, and the negotiations formally came to a close.

 

We left town the next day. We Jedi were allowed back into Chief Kandall’s house to help Jaith Kairin to pack--he hadn’t worn half of the frilly, poofy clothes that he’d brought. Jerica had gone to visit friends. Aliykah said farewell briefly to myself and Master Nish and Kenobi. But Anakin lingered in the back of the hall, avoiding her.

“I am sorry for all of the trouble my padawan caused,” Obi-wan said to her.

“It is all right, Jedi Obi-wan. My mother says that it is to be expected of all young men of that age.”

“So once we’re gone, what do you have to look forward to?” I asked her. “I mean, I’m probably never coming this way again.”

“Well, we’ll wash your sheets and make the beds and ready them for the next time we host a guest, I suppose,” said Ali. “And there’s always the gardening and the laundry and the mending. But perhaps someday, I’ll find a nice young man to bring into my home. That’ll be a nice change. And there’ll be more village holidays and weddings for me to dance at, of course. Farewell, Yzil. I am glad to have met you, if only once in my life.”

“It was a pleasure to have known you, Ali,” I said, bowing to her. “I won’t forget you.” Master Nish bowed to her too. We went outside. Ali went back to her room, and when her back was turned Obi-wan called to Anakin. 

The speeder came from Zokiel to pick us up after an almost interminable wait. While Jaith Kairin and Nish were loading up, Chief Kandall took aside Anakin and Obi-wan.

“Now, Jedi Anakin, I’ll have you know that the village elders and I have decided that, for the crimes of attacking one of our people, and killing two of our enemies during a peace negotiation, you are formally banished from Namrah forever. I do not know if you Jedi ever have a habit of visiting places more than once, but if you are ever on Dathyel, do not come here.”

“That’s all right,” said Anakin. “I would never want to come back to this stupid place ever again.” And he said it out loud and didn’t particularly care who heard him. But everyone who heard him was past the point of hearing his insults. 

Obi-wan glanced apologetically at Kandall. “Sir, I would beg for your pardon one last time.”

“Well, you may have it, Jedi Obi-wan.”

“But rest assured, I doubt you’ll ever find us in this region of your planet ever again.”

“Of course. A mere formality.”

Anakin and I got into the speeder. Obi-wan and Nish bowed and shook hands with the Chief one last time. And then they climbed aboard and we headed back the way we came.

Nobody talked on that speeder ride. Even Jaith Kairin was too exhausted by the ordeals of the last few weeks.

Obi-wan was just feeling sorry for himself. As much as I admired Obi-wan Kenobi, he had many shortcomings. He gave up too easily, especially when it came to his apprentice. Anakin was, to him, to coin the Earthling phrase, a glass half-empty.

I blamed Anakin, of course, for everything that had gone badly on that trip. Master Nish felt like I shouldn’t blame him even if he deserved it, but he didn’t feel up to lecturing me aloud. After staying in primitive lodgings for a few weeks, he was really looking forward to riding on spaceships and having droids clean up after him. I did too, but Phish felt it keenly.

You may be surprised to hear this, but the incident on Dathyel tied into the Clone Wars, for although the treaty brought a temporary halt to the fighting in the north it only increased the political chaos elsewhere. When Jaith Kairin returned to Purida City, he was not hailed as a hero for intervening in a crisis but ridiculed as a bumbling fool for making matters worse. He had also invited the Jedi and, by extension, the Galactic Senate, to meddle in Dathyel’s domestic affairs. Rumors traveled south about how the Jedi had treated both groups of natives poorly. This stirred up festered sentiment against the Republic and the Jedi that fed into the growing discontent of the galaxy. The whole thing was basically botched--and we got the blame for it. It was part of a growing number of difficulties that the Jedi were hard-pressed to confront, all caused by feelings of hatred, fear and mistrust between different peoples of the galaxy that led them to contend with each other. Sadly it was all spiraling out of control.

It was decided, when we reached Zokiel, that Master Nish and Master Kenobi would take different transports back to Coruscant to avoid stirring up the mutual animosity of their padawans. Obi-wan and Anakin got on the first transport heading back to the Core worlds. 

Case in point, when Anakin and I said goodbye to each other we were less than friendly.

“I hope I never see you again,” I said to him, not caring that I was speaking out loud.

Anakin smirked at me. “It’s a big galaxy. You might get your wish.”

“ANAKIN!” shouted Obi-wan. Anakin turned and got on board the transport without another word.

Master Nish had nothing to say to me about this. So I smirked to myself, feeling that the departing transport was the last I would ever see of Skywalker.

Ha. As if.


End file.
